DOA
by Stendan vampire project
Summary: When Ste goes for a job at exciting new club DOA, he fails to notice that the majority of staff and clientele avoid garlic and sunlight, or how the owner in particular keeps looking longingly at his neck. After a spate of disappearances and murders Ste begins to realise that perhaps he's in too deep in a dangerous world that he doesn't understand
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Greetings, and welcome to a new fanfiction by the writers that brought you... Well, you'll have to guess. This is a joint project by two writers who have had some success writing for the amazing Stendan, and have recently discovered that we may be soul mates. We hope that you enjoy our offering.**

**Warning - gore and gruesomeness and violence, and hopefully, eventually, a large bit of Stendan smutty goodness.**

All they were doing was kissing.

Will hated it when they kissed. They seemed to be teasing him with every touch, with every longing look, every smile, but the kissing was the worst. It was like his brother wanted to wound Will, by showing him exactly what he was missing.

He could read their lips with the binoculars he wore. 'I'll miss you,' she was saying between kisses. They weren't even snogs. They were sweet. If Will didn't know any better he might have described them as innocent. 'I'll miss you more,' Will's penis headed brother replied. And it went on, pathetically, stupidly, sappily, declarations of pathetic love and contentedness. Stupid Dodger. Stupid Texas.

Will scowled, and let the binoculars fall from his eyes. He didn't need to watch this rubbish. As if Dodger was really capable of loving one woman. He went with a different woman every week! He fidgeted with the leaves around him. Neither of them would notice the movement – they were too caught up in each other. He checked the time on his phone. Dodger had promised to be home by midnight and it was already five to. There was no way he was going to be on time, which showed Will enough about how much his brother's promises were worth.

He checked through the binoculars again. How could one goodbye kiss take this long? He rolled his eyes and looked up Dodger's number on his phone. He could ring, say there was an emergency, say he fell out of his chair or something. That would make him feel guilty and make him leave damn quickly. He could…

The kissers separated. Will nearly fell out of his tree with excitement. Now it was just their hands that were joined now, not even them. He only had to wait a few moments to see Dodger emerging, stupid smug grin on his face. Bastard thought he'd won, just because Texas was falling for him again. Well, Will would show him.

He watched as Dodger disappeared down the street. He didn't think to look at Will's tree, even though the wheelchair was almost blatantly visible at the bottom. That was typical of him too. He was just thick was Dodger, hardly two brain cells in his head. Maybe three in his penis. Will gave him enough time to make sure he'd gone, then carefully climbed down the tree.

He took the wheelchair. Texas would probably just let him in without question if he seemed normal. He pushed it along, thinking of an excuse for being there at this time of night. An accident? Let her have a bit of extra panic before she died?

He strolled to her path without a care in the world and then sat in his chair like a King on a Throne. This was his moment.

"Excuse me?" said a voice to his right. He turned his head. He couldn't see anyone there. Had he imagined it? It seemed to be an odd thing to imagine.

"Excuse me?" said a voice, this time to his left. He turned that way. Again, he saw no one. He looked around himself in confusion. Why would he imagine voices? He'd never heard voices before. Was it weirder that the imaginary voice was being polite?

"Who's there?" he said, and his voice was showing his nerves. The only response he got was the soft sound of cars a long way off and some wind in the trees. He searched the darkness around him and laughed. Maybe he was going mad.

He shook his head and then put his feet properly into the footholds of the chair. He gripped his wheels to turn them.

"Excuse me."

This time he knew he hadn't imagined it. His eyes widened. "Who's there?" he called into the darkness. There was noise all around him now; wind, cars, rustling, shuffling and laughing. "Show yourself!" he cried.

Someone ran past him. Except it couldn't have been someone, because no one could travel that fast. He hadn't even seen them, just a dark streak and unmistakable footsteps. He freaked out and stood up to run.

A hand caught him on the shoulder, pushing him back down into his chair.

"Excuse me; I couldn't help noticing that you can walk."

Will shivered; he couldn't make out the face of the new arrival. "Yeah," he said, "What business is it of yours?"

"Oh, not much, I suppose. I was just thinking if you can do that, then what else can you do?"

"What? It's none of your business, who are you?"

"Can you… fly… for example?"

"What? Of course I can't fly…"

"Hmm, that's disappointing," said the stranger, calmly, "Can you run faster than a bullet from a gun?"

Will had enough of stupid games, "Who are you?" he demanded angrily.

"You can't do that either? How about dinner?"

"Can I do dinner?" asked Will, "that doesn't even make sense!"

The stranger laughed.

"No, I mean can you be dinner?"

Will didn't get to do much thinking after that.

* * *

"Kids, its dinner time!" shouted Ste Hay.

The door to the kid's bedroom flew open as two blonde whirlwinds of colour whizzed past him and took their places at the table. Ste couldn't help but smile as his youngest child Lucas happily tucked into the food in front of him, it was just Leah who seemed to be having problems tucking in.

Leah let out a long sigh, staring at her plate like it was a foreign object.

"What's wrong?" asked Ste.

Leah let out another long sigh. "It's not monster food Daddy."

Ste forced himself not to laugh. Leah had recently seen _Hotel Transylvania _and now was absolutely obsessed with anything monster related. Over the past few nights he'd been forced to make her blood Soup (tomato from a tin) with severed fingers (hot dogs). Ste was starting to look forward to creating new monster meals; it actually made him feel less useless for the first time in months.

He knelt down next to Leah and noticed that Lucas was watching him too. "Of course this is monster food, its brains. But whatever you do, don't tell your Mum."

Both Leah and Lucas looked down at their plates and gasped, and Ste had to hold back a laugh.

"Now which monsters eat brains?" he asked.

"Zombies!" cried Leah excitedly. She picked up her knife and fork and began to savagely attack the meal in front of her.

After that Ste was relieved to notice both kids were eating their dinner with a renewed interest. Lucas even kept making grunting noises, sucking up the spaghetti loudly and covering his face with tomato sauce.

"You shouldn't be encouraging them." said Amy from the living room; she placed down the newspaper she had just been reading. "Not with..." she lowered her voice. "All the murders that have been happening."

Ste raised an eyebrow and edged towards his former partner. "What's happened now?"

"Didn't you see that the park was cordoned off when you took the kids to school?" asked Amy.

Ste searched his mind and vaguely remembered being diverted to a different route from the park that morning. He'd been too half asleep to question the Policeman blocking off the entrance to the park much; he'd just assumed some kids had been burning stolen cars in there again.

Amy glanced over to the kids, to check they were still eating and not listening. "They found another body;" she whispered, "apparently it's that Will Savage. You know, Dodger's brother?"

"That weird lad with the awful hair?" asked Ste.

Amy nodded. "I've just been reading the story in the paper; apparently parts of his body were dismembered and wrapped around his wheel chair."

Ste felt his stomach clench, no longer feeling hungry for his own spaghetti being kept warm on the stove. "That's proper rank!"

"That's not even the weirdest thing." continued Amy. "Apparently the parts of his body left were completely drained of all blood. So I think it's best we nip all this talk of monsters in the bud at the minute, don't you."

Ste glanced down the newspaper and noticed a familiar face staring back up at him. "Have they found that Vinnie bloke yet?"

Amy shifted awkwardly in her seat. "No, but I figured something out and please don't freak out when I tell you."

Ste braced himself, the last time Amy told him not to freak out she was pregnant with Lucas.

"Well that Vinnie was a barman for that new club DOA and I thought with him being missing that maybe they'd need a new one." she looked slightly ashamed of herself. "So I went in and asked if they have any jobs going and managed to get you an interview for tomorrow night."

"What?" cried Ste.

"I know it was a horrible thing to do and think, but we're desperate Ste. We can't live on my teaching assistant wage, we're struggling already," she started to bite her nails, almost waiting for him to explode.

Ste closed his eyes, trying to ignore his heart that was beating heavily with fear in his chest. Gruesome as the thought of taking a probably dead man's job might be, there was no way DOA would employ him, the type of people who went and were employed there looked like film stars. He's often joked to Amy he would take her there when he found a job, just so the two of them could feel like celebrities for one night. Ste knew all it would take was one look and his chance at the job would be gone, he could even hear them laughing in his head.

"I'm sorry Ste." said Amy quietly. "But I had to at least try, when will there be another opportunity like this again? Did you know that they even pay for your dental care if you work there? And the guy that owns it, Brendan something, he's well fit! Tall, dark and hansom. " she looked at him expectantly.

"I'll go to the interview." said Ste automatically, trying not to sound too disheartened by the idea already.

Amy let out a squeal and jumped up to hug him. "Thank you so much! It'll be such a weight off my mind if you managed to get the job, it's apparently mostly night work too so one of us will always be around to look after the kids."

"They won't want me." said Ste, trying to calm down her excitement. "They only hire people who look like they've just walked off a catwalk."

Amy finally released him from their hug. "Of course they'll want you. I wanted you." she elbowed and winked cheekily at him. "I think if you were good enough for me, you'll be good enough for them."

Ste tried to ignore the part of him that completely disagreed with her. "I'll go put the rubbish out." he said, desperately needing to distance himself from his family. A part of him couldn't help but feel a failure; impotent since he'd lost his job at Tony's restaurant. He pushed open the front door and made his way down the path clutching a black bag full of rubbish. Maybe he belonged out here with the rubbish too; there was no way a club like DOA would want him. It was just going to be another thing to add to the list of things he'd failed at lately.

Ste violently went to shove the black bag into the main bin, but some reason something made him look down. It was the smell that hit him first and made bile rise to the back of his throat. His whole body froze and all he could do was looked down in the depths of the bin. Lying at the bottom was the pale dismembered head of Will Savage. The dead pale blue eyes were staring up at him, glasses still lodged on his nose and caked in blood. All Ste could think to do was scream.


	2. Chapter 2

**Cheers to all who reviewed the last chapter! Here is some more! Hope you enjoy it! We can't promise to keep this pace up though!**

A solitary man weaved his way in and out of the greyness and tombstones of the Hollyoaks' cemetery. He lingered every now and then at familiar names, his fingers tracing the cold gold lettering on the stones. He was dressed in a long leather coat that billowed out behind him and dragged along the early morning dew kissed grass. The silence of the cemetery calmed him in a way in which the Hollyoaks village could not. He was safe from himself out here, alone with the silence of the night. Out here he could escape from the sound of human hearts beating as loud as thunder and the delicious smell of fear mixed with arousal. Brendan Brady could escape all the temptations that came with this curse, but he couldn't escape himself.

Brendan reached the wooden doors of the church, ignoring the long shadows cast by the pre-dawn light. The building almost looked grotesque in the darkness, a warped parody of all that it should represent. He pushed the wooden door and was pleased when it swung open without any resistance. Brendan felt every part of his body alive with apprehension, almost expecting something to jump out at him from behind one of the darkened pews. With a pang he realised that he was a lot more dangerous than anything that lingered here. A church was supposed to offer sanctuary, a safe haven in a time of strife. Today Brendan Brady was seeking an end to the torment, an escape from the monster that lingered inside of him.

Brendan entered the church slowly, his boots on stone causing the sound of footsteps to echo loudly all around him. He didn't stop until he reached the figure of the Virgin Mary. He wasn't sure how long her gazed upon her porcelain face, but he was almost sure that she was shedding tears at the sight of him. Brendan turned away, his face scrunched with agony. He pulled a golden chain from his pocket, his fingers blistering as they brushed the small cross at the end. Brendan turned towards the stain glass window depicting Christ on the cross. Even the eyes in the window seemed to be staring at him with a laser like intensity.

"Forgive me father." Brendan said softly into the darkness. "For I have sinned."

Brendan ignored his burning and blistering fingers, clutching onto the small cross even harder. He could see the smoke rising from his hand and smell burning flesh. But none of it meant anything to him, how could he feel pain when he was already dead? His heart had stopped beating a long time ago and yet his body still continued to survive. He was an anomaly, a creature of the devil. Brendan couldn't ignore any of these facts any more, he was a product of sin and for a while he had revelled in it; but not any more. He was toxic and now sweet, innocent Vinnie had paid the price for that.

Brendan glanced at the stain glass windows which seemed to be glowing red with the early morning light. It reminded him of the hell fire that he and Cheryl used to learn about on a Sunday. It was apt, considering that hell was exactly where he was going. He had partook in too many sins of the flesh lately, he had drank blood from the mentally unwilling, slept with any man that caught his eye and he had become a murderer. The monster inside of him needed to be put to bed before any of this happened again. He could already feel the yearnings inside of him bubbling to the surface, he needed blood, he needed sex, and he needed to kill an innocent.

He raised the golden cross to his mouth, his lips instantly blistering at the contact. "I have committed sins of the flesh, I have committed adultery, I have lain with another man and I have taken another man's life. I wish to repent and offer myself to you in return." Brendan spread out his arms and closed his eyes. Soon the sunlight would pierce through the windows and there would be nothing left of him but ash. "I am yours, if you will take me."

"Are you okay sir?" asked a soft voice from behind him.

Brendan was startled for the first time in years; nobody usually was able to sneak up behind him, perhaps it was his own agony and the pain in his fingers that had kept his attention elsewhere. He slipped the gold chain quickly into his pocket and his fingers that had branded and burnt by it. The urge to end his un-dead life was fading now, being taking over by the urge to feed. Brendan turned and noticed a priest standing behind him, a vein in his neck was pulsing blood through his body. He could feel his fangs dripping with saliva, ready to spring out at a moment's notice.

"I'm Father Des." said the man calmly. He did not seem to be afraid of the man who had broken into his church. More fool him.

Brendan glanced at the man, he couldn't help notice both that he had kind eyes or the fact that it would take exactly ten seconds to drain the life blood from his old neck. "Leave." said Brendan firmly. He did not want to add a man of the cloth to his list of victims, there already was a special place in hell reserved for him.

Father Des frowned and shook his head. "You're distressed; I wouldn't be able to sleep if I left a member of God's flock alone like this."

Brendan's face slipped into its true grotesque form. He stepped into the light, waiting for the man to scream or run. Father Des did neither of these things, he didn't even flinch.

"I am not one of God's sheep," said Brendan softly. "I am the wolf that hunts them." He could feel the burns on his lips cure as quickly as they had been made. He kept his hand on the cross in his pocket, to remind himself what he was, to put the power of certainty behind his words.

Father Des swallowed hard. "And does the wolf not feel pain? Wasn't the wolf created by God too?"

"God has abandoned me, only the Devil has use for anyone like me." Brendan turned back and looked at the stain glass image of Christ, a solitary blood red tear slipping down his cheek.

"All living creatures have good in them." said Father Des softly. "Only God is allowed to judge."

Brendan flew forward and within a millisecond had Father Des pinned to a wall by his neck. "If you'd only stayed away you would have lived." his sharp teeth brushed against the hardened flesh around his neck.

Father Des closed his eyes, "I am not afraid," his voice unwavering. "I've had a good life and my wife is waiting for me on the other side."

Brendan released his grip on the priest neck, breathing heavily - even though it was something he did more from habit now. He forced himself to walk away from the man, not looking back. It was time. He didn't need to feed if he was about to die. Brendan stepped into the churchyard just as the first rays of sun peaked out from the horizon. The sun was beautiful, heavenly, a symbol of everything good and pure and alive, a rare treat that Brendan had not seen for many years. The flesh on his face burned where the light touched him, he stretched out his arms ready.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." said Brendan calmly.

The priest was behind him again, he could hear his heart beat and each breath the older man drew. "You've been given life; you must have a purpose in this world. You have shown that there is still good left inside of you by fighting your urges. I know the vampire is called to kill and is desperate for blood, but you fought it my child. Do not let that goodness go to waste."

The priest knew nothing. Brendan never fought, he could never turn away from pulsating human blood, could never ignore a willing man in his bed. He was a monster and a killer.

The sun was so beautiful, offering an end, offering safety to those people around him, offering an end to an eternity of loneliness.

And the movement coming out from it did the same. There was a figure in the distance that glowed like the sun. It gave off rays of innocence and beauty and goodness. It radiated love and pain and vulnerability. And it shouldn't have to see Brendan like this, he had to hide.

Brendan turned to say something to Des, but found the older man had disappeared. A part of him wondered whether he was ever there in the first place. The sunlight was beginning to burn his body and his skin was already starting to flake away. He shot across the churchyard, stopping outside an old mausoleum that was overgrown with ivy and hadn't been used in years. The chain crumpled to dust easily in his hands. He stepped inside and closed the door, feeling the relief that only darkness could bring.

"Hello?" said a youthful, curious voice from outside. Brendan imagined it was innocent. Maybe he'd seen something of Brendan as he had crossed the church yard faster than a bullet, but that didn't matter. He would dismiss it soon. As he lay down on top of the stone grave Brendan knew it wasn't his time to go yet, his un-dead life had been saved and there must have been a reason behind it.

* * *

"Hello?" said Ste. He was probably just freaked out from finding the head in the bin, but he could have sworn he'd seen somebody then. Heard them at least. He shook his head. He must be losing it.

He hadn't bothered sleeping last night. After the police had spent hours questioning them all about things they couldn't answer, all he'd been able to think about was how close these monsters had come to his family. Not literal monsters, obviously. Whatever Amy said, there was no such thing as monsters. This was just some local nutter. Though God knows how they'd drained Will of all his blood, but then again what did Ste know about stuff like that?

The sun was glittering on the horizon now, casting Ste's long shadow before, glittering through trees and on the dew in the grass. He had no idea why he'd ended up here. He'd spent all night sat up on the landing outside his children's rooms, and then, as the first strands of light had turned the sky outside from black to grey started worrying about his bloody interview.

He wished Amy wouldn't have hope. It hurt him every time he had to tell her he'd failed again, and there was no way he could do anything but fail this time.

He looked around. There didn't seem to be anywhere to sit in this grave yard, which Ste found stupid. Where were the grieving meant to grieve? He was only here to clear his head and he couldn't even do that. Maybe he could go into the church?

No, that did not sound like a good idea. He'd not been in a church since some ill-timed attempts by Pauline to get them all to be religious. It hadn't rubbed off and Ste had come out feeling resentful of the whole thing. There was somewhere to lean. One of those big old things, what were they called? They'd had them in Buffy all the time.

It didn't matter; it was only somewhere to lean while he thought about how he could make this interview lead somewhere. Maybe if he asked if they knew about other places that might have jobs? Lower market, more likely to employ him.

He leant back on the cool solid stone of the thingy. It was beautiful out here at this time, with the sun slowly climbing and the cool air on his face. There was a strange scent of burning, too, but it was probably someone in a nearby house smoking. He drank in the air and crossed his legs.

His foot bumped something on the ground. It jangled slightly, and he peered down. It was a short length of heavy metal chain. Clearly iron or something and much too big to be jewellery. He wondered what it could be for. An old way of locking the church? Or the thingy behind him.

He glanced at the door with curiosity. It could have been held closed by a chain once. The chain must have rusted away and no one had thought to check it. It probably wasn't a problem. It was probably locked another way.

He tried the door almost entirely out of curiosity, and when it swung open to reveal the cavernous darkness within, he still couldn't help his curiosity. What could be inside a place like this? Why did people need a walk-in grave?

He stepped inside.

There was almost no light, just shadows on shadows. He could just make out the stone walls, stone ceiling, a distinct lack of windows and some coffins. A man seemed to be asleep on one of them. He did a double take and stopped himself from screaming in shock.

His first thought was how incredibly attractive the man was. Pale as the stone around him, with hair as dark as night on his head and upper lip which should have looked tacky and out of date, but somehow only added to the classical charm. He wore a long coat of a timeless quality and had a body that made Ste want to drool.

His second thought was that this was clearly a mental person sleeping on a grave.

"Er, what are you doing?" he asked, stupidly.

The eyes flew open, but no panic was discernable on the handsome face. The sat up unhurriedly and gracefully, and the stupid part of Ste's brain that only cared about how he would quite like to lick this man's biceps, couldn't help but be impressed by the strength such it would take to move like that in such an unruffled manner.

"Sleeping," said the man, in a rich voice that seemed to resonate in Ste's chest as much as his own. His eyes were a startling blue, so blue that Ste felt that they could swallow him alive. There was almost something supernatural about them.

"Er, you can't sleep on a grave!" said the more rational part of Ste's brain.

"And why not?" said the man, patting the tomb, "this guy's beyond caring about stuff like that."

"Yeah, but…" said Ste, "it's creepy, innit?"

The man's lip twitched, "Is it?"

"Yeah," said Ste, "isn't it?"

The man snorted a quiet laugh, and lay back down, "Well, you don't have to watch if it's 'creepy'" he said, closing his eyes again.

"Er, are you alright though?" said Ste. Of course people didn't sleep on graves unless they had nowhere else to go.

The eyes opened, and a strange expression appeared on the handsome face. "I haven't been alright in a long time," the man said.

"So, can I … help?" said Ste.

The face turned to look at him, eyes sad. "No, you can't help," said the man. Then he turned away and closed his eyes once more. Ste frowned, but there didn't seem to be anything else he could say after that. The man had spoken with certainty.

"Well, I hope, you know, it gets better," he said, feeling how stupid the words were even as he said them.

The man didn't respond, so Ste felt even more foolish, and made his way back out of the door.

"Thank ye," a voice said quietly, almost too quietly for him to hear. He turned back to the man.

"What for?" he asked.

The man smiled enigmatically, but didn't reply and eventually Ste gave up waiting. This guy might be attractive, but there was only so much crazy Ste could cope with before it put him off. Not that this guy had seemed crazy. But he had to be, didn't he? For sleeping on a grave?

Something made him close the door of the thingy (a mauso something?) behind him. He should put it out of his mind. He had more important things to worry about. What time was his interview again?


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is the next chapter, a massive thanks to everyone who reviewed. Thank you to those welcoming us to the fandom too - but we must stress the two of us have been here a while (as authors of stories a lot of you might know and we'd love for you to take a guess at who we are), but thank you for your kind words. Enjoy the next chapter. **

Ste walked into Hollyoaks village with what felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was practically dragging his feet by the time he reached the door of the DOA nightclub and a part of him really wanted to turn around and run away. He took a deep breath, raising his hand to knock on the large metal door. But before Ste even had a chance to touch them, they swung open. A beautiful woman with long brown hair was standing blocking the entrance; with a dress so short it hardly covered the top of her legs.

"You're late." said her painted crimson lips; she pulled him into the club by his tie.

Ste opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. The woman still was pulling him along like a dog on a lead up towards a set of metal steps. She didn't let go of his tie until they reached the top where she circled him so that his back was facing towards a pair of velvet red closed curtains, and she was looking at him with intense, dark.

"I've been waiting for this all day." purred the woman.

Ste took a step back and she immediately took one forward.

"I think there has been some kind of mistake." stuttered Ste; he could hear his own heart beat hammering in his ears.

"No mistake love," she said seductively, taking another step forward and forcing Ste to take one back.

Ste felt the back of the velvet curtains touch his back. "I'm here for-"

"Me, yes I know love," she reached out a perfectly manicured hand and placed it on his chest. "Don't worry; you're going to have the time of your life. But I don't promise to be gentle." she gave him a hard shove.

Ste flew through the curtains ready for impact against a hard floor, but instead found himself on what only could be described as a leather square. Before he had time to push himself into a sitting position; the woman was on top of him, straddling his hips. With speed that Ste had never witnessed before, she pulled off his jacket and tie, threw open his shirt and then yanked his trousers down before he's even managed to say a word.

Her lips found his neck and she licked the length of it. "This will only hurt for a second," she whispered hands slipping down to his boxers. She stopped suddenly as her hand brushed where his bulge was supposed to be...only there wasn't one. She pulled back, her beautiful face scrunched in confusion. "Well that's never happened before."

"Mitzeee!" shouted an angry woman's voice.

The woman, presumably called Mitzeee, sprang off Ste with surprising grace and sat next to him straightening her short dress. A blonde woman with dramatic curly hair and a leopard skin dress suit yanked the curtains back and took it in turns to glare at the both of them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked angrily.

Mitzeee glanced down at her nails with a bored expression on her face, like she hadn't nearly been caught with her hand down a stranger's pants. "Having lunch, what does it look like? Brendan promised me a bonus and here it is."

"That's not true!" said Ste angrily, finally finding his voice. "I came here for a job interview and she pulled me up here. She's proper mental! Needs locking up!" he stood wearing only his boxers, wishing he hadn't worn the Mr Men ones Leah chose for him for Christmas. His trousers were still stuck round his ankles.

Mitzeee cocked an eyebrow at him. "So you weren't sent by Brendan?"

"I don't even know who that is!" he pulled up his trousers quickly and pulled his shirt closed. "I should have known this was some kind of big joke." Ste grabbed his tie and jacket and marched past the blonde woman before she could stop him. He could still hear them arguing.

"I hope you're proud of yourself!" he heard Cheryl scold.

Mitzeee's reply first time sounded a little guilty. "I only wanted a snack."

Ste was half way down the stairs when a voice stopped him.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

Ste looked up and the curly haired woman was awkwardly clambering down the stairs after him.

"I'm sorry about what happened just then - it was a big misunderstanding." she explained calmly. She finally caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm Cheryl Brady, I joint own this club with my brother Brendan. I understand if you want to leave, but I'd still like to interview you for the position if you're interested?" Her eyes were wide and hopeful. She held out her hand and he reluctantly took it.

"You still want me?" asked Ste, feeling a little taken aback. He'd expected them not to want him from the minute they saw him.

"Well I've got to interview two others, but I quite like your style." answered Cheryl. "Not many men say no to Mitzeee Minniver, I'm half tempted to hire you on the spot just to see the look on her face." her face was full of glee at the memory of it.

"Alright." said Ste, thinking of Amy and the kids. "I'll stay for the interview."

"Brilliant!" said Cheryl, she dragged him towards some leather sofas situated by the long bar. "Give me five more minutes and we'll get started."

Ste sat down cautiously on the edge of one of the sofas as Cheryl disappeared into a nearby office. He began to nervously chew the nail on his thumb, almost expecting another nutter like Mitzeee to jump out on him. If he wasn't so desperate he would have been out of those doors ages ago. What type of place gave prostitutes as a bonus? Misunderstanding or not, that was still proper weird.

The club was proper creepy too. It was painted all black with only parts of the bar and some of the walls being a deep crimson colour. The ceiling was extremely high up and had a number of wooden rafters through which fairy lights were strung. There was also a metal walkway high against one wall, large enough for one person to walk along and watch the dance floor below without being seen. Ste shuddered when he noticed the steps leading up to more than one curtained off sections like the one Mitzeee had pushed him into.

Two good looking men strolled into the bar following Mitzeee. With a pang Ste realised they must be here for the bar position too. They looked like they'd just stepped off a catwalk. Ste knew he must look so out of place beside them, with his scrawny body and messy hair. The two men sat on the sofas near to Ste, not even bothering to glance at him. Ste felt that familiar feeling of being invisible and wondered why on earth he hadn't left as soon as he'd escaped Mitzeee's clutches, when he had a good excuse.

Cheryl strolled out the office door, carrying a clipboard and wearing huge red glasses that were way too big for her face. Ste was almost sure he saw Mitzeee's face light up with glee when she saw them.

"So Boys," said Cheryl sitting nearby and seeming to be loving that all three men's attention was on her. She dropped the pen and bent down to pick it up, giving all three men a clear view of her cleavage. "I take it you're all here for the bar job?"

Mitzeee slid into the seat next to Cheryl. "Well either that or they're here to see me."

Cheryl's face screwed up with an ugly expression. "I don't need you to sit in on these interviews."

Mitzeee pushed her hair behind her shoulders. "Love, I wouldn't miss this for the world. But maybe you should loose the skinny blonde mistake over there; we don't want another Vinnie on our hands."

"He stays," said Cheryl, looking as if she wanted to hit Mitzeee really hard with her clip board. "Let's begin. The first question is for you." she pointedly towards the good-looking man, who looked like a Greek God. "Are you married?"

Mitzeee let out a snort. "Do you think that's an appropriate question? I find it funny that the two men you picked for this interview are ones that you want to sleep with." she glanced at Ste as if he was a puzzle she was still trying to decipher. "I want to know how you will be able to handle yourselves behind the bar, when some of you look as if our clients could easily eat you for breakfast."

Cheryl ignored her and continued to look at the man she'd asked the first question to. She screwed up her face, as if she hoped it would make him look at her differently.

"Are you alright?" asked Ste, feeling a bit panicked.

"Course I am!" said Cheryl, never taking her eyes off the other man.

"You look like you've got constipation," said Ste, "That's how our Lucas looks when he's got it."

Mitzeee let out a tinkering laugh. "You may only be one bite big, but you've got guts kid. I've always needed a name for that face she pulls and now I've got it."

Ste flushed. Was she talking about the size of his dick?

"You are really starting to get on my nerves tonight," growled Cheryl, her eyes dangerously flashing at Mitzeee.

"Well it isn't my fault you can't do what the rest of us can with members of the opposite sex, your desperation must override it." hissed Mitzeee.

Cheryl glared at her like she was hoping her head would explode. "Some of us have got class _Mitzeee_. We don't think it's okay to chuck ourselves at every poor bloke that comes through the door. You were a tart one hundred years ago and you're still a tart now. Nothing ever changes, does it?" she screeched.

Before Ste could blink the two of them were on their feet clawing at each other. They were almost a blur of blonde and brown hair, black and leopard print. Ste had to rub his eyes several times to keep up with the action. The other two men were sat quietly on the sofas, their eyes glazed as if they could see none of it. Ste put his blurred vision down to the lack of sleep from the night before; he even wondered if he was hallucinating this now. Mitzeee flung Cheryl to the floor and Ste was almost sure he heard the floor crack from the force of it. It seemed as if by magic Mitzeee appeared on top of Cheryl viciously yanking at her hair. It was at this moment the front doors to the club swung open; hitting the walls so loudly that Ste was sure the sound could be mistaken for thunder.

"Enough!" boomed the newcomer.

The was a figure of a man stood in the entrance to the club; the outside world dark behind him and his face in the shadow of the doorway, but he looked impressive. He was tall, muscular, dressed in dark clothes and his posture showed no signs of weakness. Ste knew just by looking at him that this was the man in charge. He was the kind of man who could look at any room and know he owned it, look at any woman and know he could seduce her. He could run the world if he put his mind to it. He was the polar opposite of Ste.

Mitzeee and Cheryl sprang to their feet and away from each other at his arrival, standing still and stiff like children caught in the act of doing something naughty. They bowed their heads, looking at the floor and fidgeted with their fingers.

"What is going on here?" asked the new arrival in a booming voice that sent chills through Ste.

He saw Mitzeee and Cheryl glance at each other warily.

"She started it," Cheryl muttered.

"Did not!" gasped Mitzeee.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph," muttered the new arrival.

"You tried to undermine me in front of the staff!" snarled Cheryl.

"It didn't take much trying!" Mitzeee snapped back. 'You were pretty much there even without my help.'

The man let out a growl like an animal and stepped into the light. As Cheryl and Mitzeee continued to bicker, Ste let out a gasp.

"You!" he said.

The man from the crypt looked at him with surprised eyes.

"The innocent," he said, inexplicably staring him straight in the eyes. They were amazing eyes. Ste couldn't seem to look away from them.

"See!" cried Mitzeee, "Brendan knows him! He was for me!"

"Brendan, did you send a man for Mitzeee but not for me?!" gasped Cheryl.

"No," said Brendan, staring at Ste, who guessed he was embarrassed about the whole sleeping in a crypt thing. All three of these people seemed as mental as each other.

"No!" Ste repeated, annoyed. "I'm here about a job."

"See!" said Cheryl, "Brendan wouldn't get something for you but nothing for me."

"You want a job?" said Brendan. "Here?"

"I just need a job," said Ste, honestly.

"And you still wanna work here?" asked Brendan, "even now you know what it's like?"

Ste shrugged. Even if he hadn't been unemployed for months and reached a stage of extreme desperation, he probably would have agreed - he could cope with weird people. He could hardly call himself normal, after all. And the days would never be dull at a place like this. And Brendan was proper fit. "Yeah," he said.

"Good," said Brendan. "You're hired."

Ste blinked. "What? Just like that?"

Brendan smirked, "Just like that."

"Why?" said Ste. He couldn't help it. No one seemed to ever want to employ him.

Brendan nearly smiled. It made his face seem even more appealing and Ste had to remind himself this was about a job, not about handsome men. "You've spent time with my sister and my stalker and not run away screaming. I think that shows great strength and resilience."

"Your stalker?!" cried Mitzeee.

Ste smiled, "Great!" he said, honestly, "Thanks!"

"I ain't no stalker, Brendan Brady!" she cried.

"Don't mention it," said Brendan, holding out a hand to Ste, and raising an eyebrow, "er…"

"Ste," said Ste.

Brendan's lip curled, "Ste?" he said with a sneer.

"Yeah!" said Ste, spectacularly insulted, "It's short for Steven!"

"Steven," Brendan repeated, "yeah, Steven's better."

"Er… everyone calls me Ste," he said.

"Well, I ain't everyone," said Brendan.

"Er, hello?" interrupted Mitzeee, "you know we've got two other candidates, here!"

"So?" said Brendan, still not looking away from Ste.

"Well, it might be polite to interview them love," suggested Cheryl.

"Yeah, well I'm bored of polite," said Brendan, still keeping his gaze locked onto Ste. "You can start tomorrow, Steven."

"Great," said Ste. "What time?"

Brendan smirked, "Sunset, obviously."

Ste wasn't sure that it was obvious, but then again he supposed he hadn't been to many clubs in the sunlight. "I'll be there. I can't wait to tell Amy."

Brendan's smirk quavered, "Amy?"

"The mother of me kids!" Ste told him, "She'll be dead happy."

"Will she?" said Brendan, "dead you say?"

"Dead happy, yeah. Thanks Brendan!"

"Don't mention it," said Brendan, some of the warmth from his eyes gone.

"Right, I'll see you tomorrow," said Ste, trying not to let Brendan's strange new coldness get to him. "Bye."

He hesitated a moment longer, unsure why and just looking at Brendan. It took him long enough to realise how foolish he must look and when he turned away he was momentarily confused about how to get out. He suspected that he looked like a right idiot, but he found it eventually.

Brendan, Mitzeee and Cheryl were all still watching him, Brendan with an intensity that sent new shivers down his spine. He smiled at them all, grateful that he might have this chance and he couldn't help letting his eyes get caught on Brendan's again. Even from a distance they were addictive eyes.

He forced himself to walk away.

* * *

Cheryl, Mitzeee and Brendan all watched Ste leave with curiosity. Brendan's eyes were intense, Mitzeee's entertained, and Cheryl's concerned. She needed to point something out, just in case her brother hadn't notice.

"You know," she said carefully, "I don't think he's realised we're vampires."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and it's great to see some people trying to figure out who we are too. This chapter comes with the same warnings as previous chapters, darkness and finally some smut, sort of. We hope you continue to enjoy our work!**

Brendan was having a bad day.

After failing to kill himself because of a meddling priest (who may or may not have been real), he'd had an encounter with a beautiful stranger and said stranger had caught him having a nap in a mausoleum.

He was pretty sure he'd styled the whole thing out. It probably wasn't normal for the breathers to spend days in mausoleums, but Brendan had pretended it was something that anyone could do. He'd worked very hard to pretend everything was fine and that he was not the slightest bit interested in the beautiful boy (who had saved him without even knowing it). That bit had been quite pleasant. But from the moment the innocent had left, Brendan had been stuck in that stupid mausoleum all day! He'd had hours with nothing to do except sleep (something he didn't really need to do) and look at the places where the people who got to stay dead rested. He envied them sometimes. It was hundreds of years since he had properly rested.

Brendan had finally got back to the club, taking the streets of Hollyoaks at the speed of sound the second the sun went down. He'd been given cause to stop outside the club,by the far too familiar sound of Mitzeee and Cheryl arguing, as usual. He'd sighed and then tried to make an intimidating entrance to teach them a lesson.

For a moment he thought he'd succeeded but then they'd started again and within seconds he couldn't care less any more. Because there he was again; the beautiful innocent who had saved his life. This was it, this was fate. He had been saved so this beautiful creature could be part of his afterlife. He had hired him on the spot.

Then the little bastard had mentioned Amy. He didn't know who Amy was, but he could imagine her: some beautiful buxom woman, as perfect in the bedroom as the kitchen, maternal and beautiful. He hated Amy already. The mother of this beautiful man's children. What right did she have to steal this boy's innocence? How old was he any way?

Okay; so Brendan wanted nothing less than to plaster the innocent over a flat surface and send him spiralling into a whirlwind of pleasure unlike any he'd ever felt before. Which he supposed would be the definition of stealing his innocence; but that was different, that was him.

And as he watched the beautiful boy walk away (giving him a sublime view of the most tempting arse he'd ever seen), he could barely care what Mitzeee and Cheryl were talking about.

He didn't look away until the door blocked the beautiful innocent from his sight. Then he turned back to survey his club; there were two idiots were looking vacant on the sofa.

"So you glamoured those two, but didn't bother with the other one?" he asked, annoyed.

"Must be Cheryl's "little problem"," said Mitzeee, harshly, using air quotes.

"I do NOT have a problem and you brought them all in!" cried Cheryl, "I thought you were taking care of it!"

"Well, they're littering up my club," said Brendan, "get them out!"

Both women exploded into moans.

"Oh! But Brendan! Can't I keep one of them?"

"You promised me a bonus Brendan!"

"I'm starving Brendan! I haven't had a man in forever!"

"Well then get your own!"

"I am warning you, Mitzeeeeeee!"

"Jesus Mary and Joseph," Brendan mumbled and left them to it. He couldn't care less what they did with those two, whoever they were. His mind was more favourably occupied with the golden skinned innocent, who came out of the morning sun.

He could give Steven a mass of shifts. He could never let him go again if he wanted. He pictured the beautiful boy lying next to him, clinging to him. He imagined how those tanned legs would feel wrapped around him, how that beautiful face would look twisted in orgasm. The boy was impossibly perfect.

Impossibly. There was a rat smell here, wasn't there? Someone so perfect just turning up on his doorstep. Twice. Steven was working for someone.

He strode back to the women. "Who invited him for an interview?"

Mitzeee looked askance, "Don't look at me! As if I'd suggest someone so skinny!"

"That was the first time I saw him" said Cheryl, "but I think his wife asked the other day."

Brendan sneered, "Amy," he said, with hatred.

Cheryl nodded, "Yeah, she was sweet, said he'd been looking for a job for ages and they had kids, and…"

"Was she pretty?" Brendan asked, forgetting why he was asking these question.

"Yeah, I suppose, in a skinny and childlike sort of a way," Cheryl confirmed, Brendan flinched again. Cheryl might have gone on to say more, but Brendan was not interested. He shut them out again and went up to the walkway. People had started to arrive for a night of clubbing; he liked to stand up here watching out for potential snacks and trouble makers. He spotted the trouble makers easily. The snacks seemed less appealing.

He couldn't care less how many pretty young things were giving him 'come hither' looks, or those who had displayed themselves like an all you can eat buffet. It just seemed irrelevant now. Those golden limbs and easy smile kept intruding when he thought about it. That damn beautiful boy.

Macca turned up at about eleven and leaned casually on the rail beside him. He had a high-necked shirt on to hide the marks Brendan had left at their previous interactions.

"Hi there," he said, in what Brendan supposed was Macca's attempt at sexy.

"Macca," he said, still looking through the crowd.

Macca leant over, clearly trying to put himself into Brendan's line of sight. "So, you fancy going into one of the rooms?"

"Not tonight," said Brendan, coldly.

Macca shifted closer, even daring to touch Brendan's hip. "Oh, go on Brendan," he said, "you know you want to."

Brendan snorted, "I know I don't," he replied, scathingly.

"Come on," said Macca; clearly about to try again, if the hand now travelling dangerously close to Brendan's groin was anything to go by. But Brendan had had enough.

He turned to face Macca, making eye contact. This was usually his seduction technique; not his method of pushing people away from him, but he went with it anyway.

"Macca, you do not want me," he said, knowing his eyes would have trapped Macca's.

"I do not want you," Macca replied, woodenly.

"You will now leave this place and never return unless I call for you."

"I will now leave this place and never return unless you call for me."

"You will keep my secrets safe and avoid any vampires from this moment on."

"I will keep your secrets safe and avoid any vampires from this moment on," said Macca, like a robot.

"Good, now go," Brendan instructed. And Macca did, as Brendan knew he would. That was the power of vampires. Mind control over lesser beings. Mortals were powerless to their whims. Except for Cheryl's for some reason.

He eventually gave up on trying to run the club, throwing out everyone with a pulse (and a number of people without one) and closed the club before midnight. Cheryl thought he'd gone mad. Mitzeee was more clued in.

"It's that lad, isn't it? Isn't it? You fancy him! That's why you gave him the job!"

"Shut up Mitzeee," he replied.

"I knew it!" cried Mitzeee, "I suppose he's pretty (in a twinky kind of way), but a bit skinny for my tastes."

"Good job you won't be eating him then," said Brendan. "Did you get his employment shit?"

"Employment shit?" asked Mitzeee.

"You know, bank details, P45, that crap."

Mitzeee pulled a face, "Do I look like a secretary?"

Brendan gave her his best scathing look, "Oh heaven forbid I should expect you to do some work today. It's not like that's what I pay you for."

"Yeah, well...you can sort it tomorrow, can't ye?" Mitzeee replied, dismissively. Brendan supposed she had a point. He'd decided to employ Steven, it was his responsibility to sort it all out.

Long experience had taught Brendan that it was better to have those boring things in place. There was something about DOA that caught the attentions of a myriad of noisy people; councillors, police officers and heaven forbid vampire slayers. There had to be nothing on the surface that suggested anything amiss. Brendan was careful that nothing of a suspicious nature could be traced back to him or the club; he was a stickler for taxes being paid on time and work permits being checked. If anyone was hoping to look, they would not be finding any excuses to pry.

"I shall remind him," he said at length, unable to hold back the small smile. "I need to check he's not employed by anyone… unsavoury anyway."

"What?There are people out there less savoury than you?" said Mitzeee with a grin and a laugh. Brendan gave her a final glare and left. He had more pleasurable things to worry about.

He was back home in seconds, knowing Mitzeee and Cheryl were more than capable of locking up by themselves. He had just one task in mind, as he shut himself away. He relaxed, lay back and closed his eyes.

He could find Steven easily enough. The lad had probably gone to sleep quite soon after getting home and Brendan traced his dreams with relish. He felt a surge of pleasure when he found no resistance to his entrance into those dreams.

He had a good look around; looking for lies and duplicity. But he could find no fear, no dishonesty, no sign that Steven was living a double life or lying. In fact, his dreams were so open Brendan felt strangely comfortable in them. He saw children playing happily, he saw warmth and friendliness, he saw the normal anxieties of starting a new job, of paying the rent and affording the things a family needed. Then he saw himself.

He was not doing much yet, just staring at Steven in a predatory manner. Brendan watched himself and the boy in a scene that highly reflected their earlier moment. He could feel the attraction radiating from Steven, just as he had that morning and that evening. It was strong enough to rival his own.

Steven's imagined Brendan stepped forward: slow, sedate and graceful. Steven bit his lip with anticipation. When they got closer, Steven's excitement only grew. Brendan didn't feel like watching any more.

He took the place of Steven's imagined Brendan. It wasn't his body here, but then again neither was it Steven's. It didn't matter. No words were necessary.

"What are you doing here Brendan?" Steven's dream asked.

"I came to see you," Brendan replied, honestly.

"Why?" asked Steven, Brendan recognised that same self-doubt he'd seen earlier. Even Steven's dreams lacked confidence.

"Because I want you," Brendan replied. It didn't matter. Steven would remember this in the morning, but he would assume he had dreamt it. He couldn't hold anything that happened now against Brendan.

"Me?" asked Steven, half-terrified, like he expected his own subconscious to reject him. "Have you changed your mind about the job?"

"No," said Brendan, "never."

"Then…"

Brendan closed the gap on him then, unable to hold himself back any longer. Their lips met and Steven submitted to the move beautifully. Brendan smiled to himself putting his hand behind Steven's head. He felt Steven gasp, willingly giving himself over to Brendan.

Brendan deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into Steven's mouth. He was surprised to find Steven's own tongue meeting it, battling. Steven's hands came up too, gripping Brendan's shoulders. Not so submissive then, Brendan thought. He guided Steven backwards until the dream created a bed for them. Together, they fell onto it, and without the need to hold him standing, Steven's legs came round to pull Brendan closer.

Steven was hot.

His hands would not stay still. They explored Brendan's body, finding muscles, and flaws. His legs were anchoring Brendan to him and Brendan wasn't sure he could get away from Steven now even if he tried. His own hands were busy too; one still cradling Steven's beautiful face and the other moulding itself to Steven's body, exploring the slim frame eagerly. He heard Steven's approving groan at the moves.

He broke contact between their mouths, moving to Steven's jaw bone. He followed it, traced it down to Steven's neck with kisses, this was accompanied by the sound of Steven's gasps and the feel of one of Steven's hands grasping at his hair, like he was trying to pull Brendan closer. He did this until he reached the pulse point, where jaw met neck. He could almost taste Steven's life blood flowing underneath, feel the tempo that kept Steven alive with his lips. He paid it extra attention, worshipping it with tongue and lips. He knew what should follow, what a hundred years of this life showed him should follow.

Yet he didn't want to.

The pulse was too beautiful, the boy too breakable. He wanted them both, but as they were. Innocent, perfect and unbroken. He kissed the point one more time, before pulling away and looking down at Steven.

The boy's face was flushed, his eyes heavily lidded, his breath coming in desperate gasps. Brendan smiled at the beautiful sight.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Steven nodded back at him; clothes never seemed a problem in a dreams and Brendan kissed him again, bringing their most intimate parts close together.

"Stee—eee," came a shrill sound that really didn't match the scene. Brendan frowned, what on earth was that noise?

"Steeeeeee!" called the voice again and it was far too close for comfort.

"That's Amy," said Steven, a look of confusion on his face, "I think…"

And the dream disappeared around them. Brendan opened his eyes to the darkness of his own coffin, the stillness of his own place and with an annoying feeling of dissatisfaction. In his dream Steven had opened himself up for Brendan, given himself over, presented himself like a gift and some stupid woman had woken him up before Brendan could take advantage of it.

Once Steven started working for Brendan he would find himself on every shift that existed, with a thousand jobs to complete in between. He would find his new job had taken over his life and Brendan would make sure he didn't even care. Brendan would make sure that Steven would feel the same burgeoning obsession Brendan did; feel the same need, the same desires, the same passions and the same hatreds.

And Brendan really, really hated Amy.

* * *

Paul Browning walked through the darkened streets of Hollyoaks without a care in the world. He knew that there was apparently a murderer wondering around the village, but felt no fear. He'd killed again tonight, one of his ill patients who had a lot of money. Paul knew he should feel guilty, but the wedge of stolen money in his pocket shielded him from such emotions. He was going to buy Mercedes a diamond ring tomorrow, a really big one.

He cut through the alley that lead to his flat, calmly breathing in the cold night air. He stopped suddenly as he sensed something dart to the side of him, something big.

"Hello?" asked Paul, he glanced around the alley and was relieved to find he was on his own. It was probably his imagination, he always was a bit jittery after he killed someone.

"I've been watching you." hissed a voice from behind him.

Paul nearly jumped out of his skin, turning quickly to where the voice had come from. There was no one there. He turned round to go forward but found his path blocked.

"Have you a confession, Doctor?" hissed the voice, this time from a completely new direction.

"What? Who are you?" Paul called back.

There was silence. He looked around, peering into the darkness for the source. Still he could see no one. Paul laughed. "Some sort of religious nutter, are you?" he sneered, "too scared to show me your face though?"

He was met with silence again and he laughed again. "Thought so." He moved on, he had no time for lunatics tonight.

A dark shape appeared in front of him. Paul hadn't seen anyone arrive and he almost shouted in shock.

"I gave you the chance to confess, doctor," said the stranger, "now it's time you pay for your sins.

Paul let out a blood curdling scream and then he knew no more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for your reviews, we're still loving your guesses. The same warnings from the last chapters still apply. **

Ste was two hours into his first shift at DOA and was finally starting to calm down. He'd pretty much been shaking from the minute he'd walked into the nightclub, almost expecting them to turn him away or say they'd made a mistake. It was Mitzeee who had opened the doors for him again, a big smile on her bright red lips. She'd helped to train him behind the bar for the first hour of his shift with the smuggest smile on her face, like she knew some kind of secret that he didn't. Ste was relieved that Mitzeee had seemed impressed with him and allowed him to serve the customers on his own after a while. He had often helped Tony behind the bar on busy nights at his restaurant, so the whole thing felt almost second nature to him. They even had an amazing till that did all the adding up and had all the drinks names on it, all he had to do was press a few buttons.

It was just the bottles of home brand 'Special Brew' that worried Ste, he'd never encountered the drink before and the bottles seemed to be full of a thick liquid the colour of blood. By now the club was completely full of people, some looked like they'd been sculpted out of marble they were that pale and beautiful. Ste glanced up towards the walkway he'd seen Brendan pacing along all evening. The older man hadn't been near him all night, but Ste had felt his eyes burning holes into the back of his neck. He felt his cheeks flushing slightly at the memory of the dream he'd had last night. It wasn't exactly normal to have those type of dream about your boss who liked to sleep in cemeteries, was it?

"How you getting on?" asked a perky voice from behind him. He glanced at the owner of the voice and saw Theresa McQueen, a blond girl dressed in a short red dress with heavy eye-liner that Ste thought was supposed to be gothic.

"Great!" said Ste. "This is really fun." He'd been relieved to see a familiar face behind the bar. Although he wished Theresa hadn't eagerly told Mitzeee that the two of them had gone out together when they were kids. Mitzeee had seemed to find the whole story hilarious and looked at Ste with a new found respect.

"It's a bit weird at the start, working for...well you know. But you get used to it in the end, it's not so bad." said Theresa kindly.

Ste chewed his lip, thinking about the Brady's eccentricities. "I'm sure I'll get used to it."

Theresa nodded, stepping forward to serve a man waiting at the bar.

Ste glanced up at the balcony, unable to stop himself from once again eyeing up his boss. There was something about the man that made every part of him sing with desire. He passed a customer their drink and then turned, colliding straight into a wall of solid muscle. Brendan Brady was somehow stood right behind him.

"How'd you get there?" asked Ste, frowning in confusion.

"I flew Steven," said Brendan sarcastically, "How do you think I got here?"

Ste scratched his head. "I'm sure you were just standing on that walk way a second ago, there's no way you could have got here so quick."

"Good observation, it's good to know I've not just hired another pretty face." said Brendan, his voice low.

"Well I've got to get back to work." said Ste boldly, trying to side step Brendan. There was just something about the man that made him go weak at the knees.

"No Steven," said Brendan, his eyes dark.

There was something about those eyes, it was like they were radiating heat and pulling him in. Ste could feel himself falling, the world around him becoming a cloud. It was like he was floating above everything and all that mattered was Brendan's will.

'You will go upstairs Steven,' said Brendan's voice from far away. 'You will go behind the curtains and strip naked. Then we will fuck all night until the sun comes up.'

Ste couldn't logically see any problem with this. "I will go upstairs and..." Wait a minute! Ste felt himself crashing back down to the earth with a bang. Suddenly he could think freely again, everything wasn't fuzzy anymore. And he was very annoyed that he'd almost just obeyed. Which made him wonder why he was annoyed at the idea of having sex with someone he really wanted to have sex with. He decided it was the way Brendan asked. "No I bloody well won't!'

The expression on Brendan's face resembled one of complete and utter shock. "Sorry?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard right the first time.

Ste pointed his index finger into Brendan's chest. "I don't know what kind of place you're running here, but I ain't some chew toy you can do what every you want with! If you've hired me to be some kind of prostitute, then you can stuff your job where the sun don't shine."

"Steven." said Brendan, his voice low and husky. "You will yield to me."

"I don't yield to anyone." replied Ste, feeling annoyed with both Brendan and himself for still being tempted.

Mitzeee appeared next to them as if by magic. "I might be wrong Bren, but I don't think your Jedi mind trick works on him." she sounded as if she was about to explode with laughter. "Looks like Cheryl's little problem runs in the family."

"What's she on about?" demanded Ste, feeling even more confused. Brendan screwed his face up, his eyebrows scrunched together with effort. Ste was surprised the man hadn't gone red; he seemed to be trying that hard. "Cheryl did that face the other day, do you suffer from constipation too?"

Brendan angrily threw his arms into the air. "It's like trying to tap into a plank of wood, there's nothing there! It must be you because it certainly isn't me."

"Are you calling me thick?!" asked Ste, angrily, his voice definitely raised now. Why did people always seem to think there was something wrong with him? He'd spent most of his life believing he was thick, but was furious that there didn't even seem to be a reason for Brendan to think it and still he did. "Because I don't have to put up with that."

"Alright boys, enough." said Mitzeee. "Ste carry on with your work, Brendan go to the office and calm down." Neither man moved. "Go!"

Brendan slipped out from the bar, his angry eyes flashing. He kept looking at Ste like he was some kind of anomaly, like there was something wrong with him, and like Brendan wanted to kill someone.

Ste felt a chill run down his spine, like somebody had slipped an ice cube down his back. For a moment he had been scared that Brendan was going to hurt him.

"Don't worry love," said Mitzeee softly, "he's just angry because his ego is a bit bruised, that's all. Take no notice."

Ste finally drew his eyes away from Brendan's back, which was disappearing into the office. "He's proper mental, him! He wanted me to go strip naked in one of those rooms upstairs. Isn't that sexual something or other?"

Mitzeee looked Ste straight in the eyes. "You will forget that ever happened." she ordered softly.

Ste felt the familiar pull, like there was an unwanted fly buzzing round his head. "No I bloody won't forget! First you go mental, then he does the same! It's like some mental Lynx advert, only I haven't got any on."

Mitzeee looked taken a back, but she forced herself to smile again. "What I said had no affect on you, did it Ste?"

"What? No, I don't have to just do what anyone says! It's not in the job description!" answered Ste. These people really were proper mental.

"Interesting." said Mitzeee, once again buzzing with excitement like a little kid who'd just been given candy. "I think I'm really going to enjoy working with you Ste."

* * *

He recounted everything that had happened to Theresa, expecting some good sympathetic and disgusted sounds, "So then he was all like 'you will yield to me' and I was like proper freaked out, I mean he can't talk to me like that, can he?" said Ste, but Theresa McQueen just looked bored. She kept glancing at the door as if expecting someone to walk through it, ever once in a while making the appropriate noises that made it seem like she was listening.

Her face lit up into a bright smile, as a small man with brown hair walked into the club. "Listen Ste, I wouldn't ask usually but I need you to do me a favour."

Ste tried his best not to show he was annoyed that she hadn't listened to a word he'd said in the last ten minutes. At least Brendan had kept away from him since that incident earlier; maybe it had all been some kind of joke after all. Why else was Mitzeee going on about Jedi mind powers? It just didn't make any sense.

"What do you need me to do?" asked Ste, desperate to get at least one member of the DOA staff to like him, and Theresa didn't seem quite as mental as the others.

"My boyfriend Joel has just walked in." explained Theresa. "And I haven't seen him in ages. Do you think you could cover for me while I take a quick break? I would never normally ask, but I've really missed him." she gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

"Okay." said Ste, agreeing before he had a chance to think about it.

"Thanks Ste!' Squealed Theresa. "I won't be long, just whatever you do don't let on to Brendan where I've gone. He's scary when he's angry." She slipped out from behind the bar, running over and greeting her boyfriend with a passionate kiss. They were practically pulling each others clothes off as they disappeared up the stairs towards the curtained rooms.

"Young love, ay?" said a good looking man leaning at the bar.

Ste couldn't help but admire how good looking the man was, even if he was a bit on the pale side. He forced himself to once again shake off the fuzzy feeling that was taking over his head. "What can I get you?" he asked politely.

"You." answered the man silkily. "You look delicious."

Ste forced himself to laugh, how many nutters could this one club hold? Although it was a bit of a confidence boast, a lot of men and women were finding him attractive tonight. Normally these types of people would be completely out of Ste's league, maybe it was that Special Brew making them see him in a different light.

"I'm not on the menu, I'm afraid to say." said Ste cheerfully.

"Pity." said the man, finally tearing his eyes off Ste. "I'll have a bottle of Special Brew instead then."

Ste bent down below the counter to grab a bottle (for some reason they liked the drink at room temperature), he stood up too quickly, banging his head hard on the counter and biting down hard on his lip. "Bugger." he muttered, immediately tasting blood.

Ste glanced up and his mouth fell open; the man was no longer on the other side of the bar any more, but beside him. There was a look in the man's expression that caused ice cold fear to spread through his veins. His eyes were full of desire and something else, Ste felt his stomach drop when he realised it was hunger.

Just as the man pounced forward to attack a blur shot in front of Ste, causing the man to fly across the room and hit the middle of dance floor with a bang. The music stopped and all eyes flicked to Ste. But he didn't notice this because his view on the room was blocked by a long leather jacket.

"He's mine!" growled an animalistic voice. Brendan Brady's voice.

The music suddenly burst back on and everyone turned around as if nothing had happened, averting their eyes. Brendan turned slowly so that he was facing Ste, his eyes flashing with murderous intent.

"I'm not yours!" said Ste indignantly. He didn't care how childish he sounded; Brendan's behaviour just wasn't on. It was good that he had saved him from that weird bloke, but it didn't give him any rights over him now.

Brendan stepped forward, closing the space between them. His eyes were on Ste's bottom lip which was stained red from the blood slowly oozing out of the cut. Ste felt his heart quicken as Brendan bent his head down, never taking his eyes off Ste's. Ste was drowning in his eyes; they were dark, wild and full of desire. He wanted them to swallow him, he wanted Brendan to take him upstairs like he said he would have earlier and spend all night doing all sorts of things that he wasn't sure were legal. Brendan pressed their lips together, his tongue darting out and licking on the blood on Ste's lower lip. Ste felt an explosion of desire rock through his body, his cock alert with spasms of pleasure at every sweep of Brendan's tongue.

Brendan pulled away for a second, as if he was savouring the taste of Ste's lips. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, letting out a moan as if he'd tasted something delicious. "You're delicious Steven," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You're going to be the death of me."

* * *

Ste didn't really want to leave DOA, even when it came round to three o'clock and his shift ended. A part of him even thought about trying DOA's special brew, just to have an excuse to stay. But the gloopy liquid did little but turn his stomach, and frustratingly Brendan seemed to have disappeared.

Typical! One kiss, a cryptic remark and then he was gone in a puff of smoke. He was mental, that guy! What was Ste supposed to do now? Amy would go mad if she knew he'd snogged the boss on his first day! Confusing bastard, who made him having confusing dreams that were sexier than anything Ste had ever experienced.

He waved good bye to Mitzeee who had taken to looking at him like Brendan had earlier; like he was the crazy one! Obviously Ste was the sanest person in that building, so it was no wonder they thought him odd.

He was almost out of the door when he spotted Brendan again. He was standing on the walkway, looking gorgeous, predatory, and he was watching Ste. Ste's breath caught in his throat. The things he wanted that man to do to him! The things he wanted to do to that man! He bit his lip. This was bad. Workplace romances were not a good idea!

He forced himself to leave before that weird sensation overcame him again, making him want to strip naked or something equally humiliating. The outside world almost hit him, it was so cold, boring and real in comparison to the world around Brendan Brady. He sighed, pulling his coat more closely around him, and walked out into the darkness. The village was almost in darkness and silent, the pale moon was the only source of any light.

As he walked into the alley, bloody Brendan Brady kept invading his mind. That kiss had been mind-blowing. Ste had barely been able to think straight since. He had a very distinct image of the man baring down on him, the taste of his mouth on Ste's mixed with the copper taste of his own blood.

Ste stopped, leaning against the nearest wall and let out a groan.

"Yes, that's the normal reaction to meeting Brendan Brady," said a voice from his far left.

He jumped and looked up. He couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" he demanded of the darkness.

He got no response, so he moved towards the source of the sound and peered into the darkness for any human figures.

"I know someone's there!" he said, angrily, "is that you Brendan?" he added as he thought it, suddenly hopeful. Maybe they'd get to kiss again. "Stop messing about!"

"No," said the voice, this time from behind him "nothing so dangerous."

Ste spun, "Who's there?" he shouted.

He began to make out the figure before him. Tall, slim, dressed in a knee length coat and a Stetson hat. The figure came closer and closer until Ste could make out the roughness of the clothes, the few days of ragged stubble, a slight smell of alcohol and his single fang earring glinting in the moonlight. The man smiled, but it was far from warm.

"I'm Simon Walker," said the figure, "and I'm a vampire slayer."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN Thanks again to any reviewers out there. So far one person has guessed who one of us is. That person knows, and we are very entertained by all the other guesses!**

**Enjoy! **

Ste decided he'd met enough mental people that day. He didn't bother replying to the one crazy enough to introduce himself as a vampire slayer, and turned to go home.

"Hey!" called Simon Walker the vampire slayer, "where are you going?"

Ste didn't turn, "Home, where I don't have to deal with crazy people!"

Simon Walker caught his arm, "I'm not crazy!" he hissed, eyes wide.

Ste pulled his arm away, "Yeah, that's convincing!" he said, walking on again.

"Your name's Steven, isn't it?" said Walker, "Steven Hay?"

Ste stopped where he was and turned slowly. "How did you know that?"

Walker shoved his hands into his pocket, sensing the turn in the conversation and relaxing into it. "I make it my business to know everyone who has dealings with Brendan Brady," he said, casually.

Ste folded his arms, "What, are you in love with him or something?"

Walker snorted dismissively, "Hardly."

"Or is it just attraction of the mentals?" Ste added, harshly.

"Why do you think a vampire slayer would follow someone?" said Walker, hardly acknowledging the nasty words.

Ste scrunched up his face, "If you say what I think you're going to say…"

"What, don't believe Brendan could be a vampire?" said Walker.

"Seriously?" said Ste, "and I suppose his sister's a werewolf, and Mitzeee's an alien."

"No," said Walker with a smile, "obviously they're all vampires, but Brady's in charge. He's the one I'm after."

"Do you even know how mental you sound?" Ste demanded.

"And how else do you explain William Savage's murder?"

"I don't have to explain Will Savage's murder!" Ste cried, "That's what they police are there for!"

"He's not the only one, Steven," said Walker, "and the police are getting nowhere!

"Well it's only bin a few days!"

"They won't get anywhere, Steven, because it wasn't a human who did it!" said Walker, as though it were something obvious and not his mental crap, "They're not set up to handle vampires; they wouldn't know what to do if they found one!"

Ste shook his head at the sheer amount of crazy one man could spout, "Look, mate," he said, trying to hold on to his temper, "I think you should see someone, you know, about all this. There's pills and stuff they can give you that'll calm you right down."

"I'm not crazy!" Walker snarled at him.

"There's no such thing as vampires!" said Ste.

"So, everyone at that club was completely normal, were they?" asked Simon, "no weird moments that you can't remember? No one moved faster than was possible? No one looked at you like you were a buffet?"

Ste blinked, "OK, that doesn't mean they're vampires!"

Simon's face showed a grim satisfaction in the darkness as he realised his words were resonating, "And no one tried to drink your blood?"

Ste rolled his eyes, "Of course no one tried to drink my blood!"

"Well," said Walker, "let's hope you believe me before they succeed, yeah?" He pulled out a ragged bit of paper, "If you change your mind, if you spot something that you think is suspicious, give me a call. A man on the inside could be invaluable to me."

Ste looked at the paper suspiciously, "If I take that, will you leave me alone?" he asked, dubiously.

"Unless I think you're in danger," Walker replied, holding the paper out.

"Fine," said Ste, taking the paper. "No bugger off and leave me alone. It's like half three and the kids'll be jumping on me in like four hours."

"Thank you, Steven," said Walker, looking genuinely relieved, and Ste supposed he wouldn't be mental if he didn't believe his own stories.

"Yeah, well, my name's Ste, so…"

"Ste," said Walker. "I'm looking out for you."

Ste turned and walked away, mumbling "I wish you wouldn't."

* * *

The dead body in front of him was delicious, mouth-watering even. He couldn't help but take a long lick of the dismembered arm on the floor, it tasted almost fresh. The memory of the man's fear as he was murdering him still made him shudder with pleasure. Now all that was left were pieces of his body; it was a shame humans were so easy to devour, so breakable and so full of sin. He'd sucked every last bit of blood out of him, like one of those box drinks you'd give a child.

He took himself over to the wheel chair in the corner and sat down. Murdering the boy in the glasses had its benefits, even if he hadn't tasted very nice. He began to circle the pile of body pieces, leaving a blood stained trail from the wheels. It was afternoon again, he hated afternoons. He was so bored and hungry, so hungry. He stood up treading in something that he could only assume was the doctor's liver and kicked it aside like a football. He made his way over to the mirror above the dirty sink and was surprised at what he saw. There was that boy staring back at him, the beautiful boy with big blue eyes and long lashes, messy blonde hair and the most amazing cheek bones. He opened his mouth and so did the reflection, revealing long blooded fangs instead of teeth.

Ste screamed.

It took Ste about five minutes to calm down his breathing, as he clung onto the covers breathing heavily. In his dream he'd been inside the head of the thing that had murdered Will. He had been the monster. Ste had been having weird dreams for a while, but he knew the last few he couldn't quite remember had been a lot more pleasurable. He'd never been inside the head of a monster before.

"Are you alright in there Ste?" Asked Amy's voice from outside the door. "I heard screaming."

"I'm alright." shouted Ste. "Just a bad dream."

It was at that point he realised how stupid he was being. No wonder he'd had a bad dream, it was the whole thing with that Simon Walker guy last night. It had put stupid ideas in his head. There was no such thing as vampires or monsters; they were make-believe just like vampire slayers. He rolled over and forced himself to go back to sleep, slipping into dreams about wolves instead.

* * *

It was just after dusk by the time Ste stepped into DOA and he was surprised to see that the club was already bustling with activity. There were men around everywhere putting up decorations and amongst the chaos Mitzeee sat at the bar calmly reading a book.

"What's going on?" asked Ste, sliding into the seat next to her.

"Cheryl's having a theme night." said Mitzeee calmly, not even bothering to look up from her book. "Brendan's not arrived yet, I can't wait to see his reaction when he does."

Ste glanced around and noticed the club had been transformed with bright pink glitter decorations and a large amount of fluffy white clouds with creepy looking cherubs on them. "What's the theme?"

"Tunnel of love," answered Mitzeee. "Though she would have been better off calling it tack-fest." she placed down her book. "Brendan should have sent Cheryl packing years ago; she's like a plague that brings glitter and animal print to wherever she goes."

Ste glanced awkwardly down at her book, knowing it wasn't the best of ideas to slag off one of his bosses. "What's Twilight?"

Mitzeee's eyes lit up at the question. "It's a comedy, about some boring girl and glittery vampires. If I didn't know any better I'd have said that Cheryl was the one who wrote it. I've never laughed so hard at anything in my life. I spent the whole book hoping the main character would get murdered."

A cold gust of wind blew across the club, causing Ste to shiver. He turned and noticed Brendan was now standing behind the two of them, like he'd been there all along. Ste was sure he hadn't been there a minute ago, wasn't super speed a vampire trait?

"Ladies," said Brendan smoothly. "Didn't realise I was paying the two of you to sit around and gossip."

Mitzeee picked up her book and went back to reading like she hadn't heard him. "I get paid to work in a club, not this freak show."

Ste disguised a laugh into a cough. Brendan's eyes once again found his and his heart started to beat erratically. Ste couldn't take his eyes off him; there was something about him that made his whole body alert with anticipation. Ste wanted to push forward and press himself against Brendan's body, feel his stone muscles against his flesh.

Mitzeee waved her hand in front of Ste's face. "And you're back in the room. What were you thinking about? You're practically drooling." then she glanced at Brendan.

Ste reluctantly drew his eyes away from Brendan, remembering to breathe again. He'd never wanted someone so much in his life. It was almost like an infection, a disease; Brendan Brady was infecting every thought and every heart beat.

"Aren't the decorations wonderful!" said Cheryl, standing in the door way and admiring her own work. She was wearing something that could only be described as a bright pink wedding dress.

"I didn't realise we were playing host to an episode of My Big Fat Gypsy wedding." Mitzeee muttered under her breath. "I wonder who the unlucky fella is; tell me, does he have a white stick with red band? Because that's not a fashion accessory you know."

Brendan finally seemed to tear his attention off Ste and notice the decorations all around the club. His expression switched to one of pure horror. "Christ Chez, what the hell have you done to my club?"

"You don't like it?" asked Cheryl, her smile suddenly wavering. "And what do you mean "my" club; I own half of this place Brendan."

"Let's go and sort you out a till float." said Mitzeee quickly to Ste, sensing danger.

As Ste followed Mitzeee out of the doors to the sounds of the siblings bickering, Cheryl seemed to be wearing red mascara.

* * *

It was two hours into his shift that Ste realised he couldn't stop Simon Walker's words ringing in his ears. The man had to be a nutter, right? Some of the people in this club couldn't be vampires, could they? He looked around and was once again blown away by the number of beautiful, pale, perfect marble faces. Real humans couldn't be that beautiful, could they? And what about Cheryl? He was sure she'd caused a dent in one of the club's pillars during her row with Brendan. Those pillars were made out of concrete.

Ste looked up and once again noticed Brendan watching him from above hungrily. Each time Ste felt Brendan's eyes on his back he actually felt, for the first time in his life, desirable...sexy even. But why would a man like Brendan Brady, want someone as plain as him? What if Simon Walker was right? What if Ste was just another snack on the menu that he was yet to try? Ste had images of himself being on display in a glass cabinet, like they did with those cakes in fancy restaurants. He forced himself to stop being silly, thinking about vampires; they were just silly things in books, they weren't real. But a voice in the back of his mind kept asking: How do you know?

"Do you want to go collect some glasses?" asked Mitzeee.

The club was completely dead tonight and most people were leaving. The bar was averaging out on about one customer every few minutes. It seemed Cheryl's decorations were either scaring people off or not creating the right ambiance.

"Sure." answered Ste; he slipped out from behind the bar. Looking for any trace of empty glasses, it was then he noticed Brendan was no long on his walk way.

Brendan Brady was stood at the bottom of the steps that lead to the curtained rooms, talking to an attractive brunette woman. Ste tried to push away any feelings of jealousy, but found himself unable to do so. He casually strolled over to where they were standing, trying to catch a snippet of their conversation. The two moved away up the stairs and Ste inwardly cursed, watching them disappear as they reached the top. Ste waited about a minute and then slammed the glasses he'd managed to find on a nearby table and followed them.

He crept up the stairs, checking nobody was watching him. As he reached the top he noticed that only one of the curtained rooms was in use, that's where Brendan must be with that woman. If Simon Walker was right then Brendan would be inside sucking some woman's neck or he could be having sex. The thought of Brendan having sex with the woman made him feel sick, made him want to rip the curtains apart, violently drag the woman away kicking and screaming. Maybe him being a vampire was the better option after all, even if it was a bit of a far-fetched explanation.

Ste edged to the curtains and almost fled when he heard a long throaty male moan. He stepped closer, feeling numb and trying to make as little sound as possible. Through the gap in the curtain he could just make out a man and woman merged together in a tangle of limbs. The man was pounding into the woman as she screamed out in pleasure. Ste stepped back, not wanting to see any more. He didn't expect to slam straight into a solid wall of flesh.

"I thought you were meant to be collecting glasses Steven, not taking on the role of the neighbourhood pervert." said Brendan softly. He was eyeing Ste like he was something delicious, like he wanted to devour him.

"I was-" words failed Ste; as he thought about himself being naked like the woman behind the curtains, with Brendan pounding away at his hole. His cock sprang to life with alertness. Just being in Brendan's presence was driving him crazy.

"We could show them how it's done." said Brendan huskily in his ear. "Why watch, when you could do it with me?"

Ste found himself trapped in Brendan's gaze, like he was hypnotised, or a rabbit caught in a car's headlights. Every part of his body was ordering him to do what Brendan wanted; go behind one of the curtains and submit to this beautiful man. Let him do anything he wanted to his body. Brendan stepped forward to close the gap; the spell was suddenly broken as he seemed to breathe in Ste's scent. No that wasn't it, Brendan Brady had sniffed him! What type of nutter sniffed people? And why did the sound go straight to Ste's cock?

"Brendan," came a woman's voice from behind a door Ste hadn't realised was there. "I've checked the stocks of Special Brew and they're still okay for consumption. Where do you want the new donations?"

"I'll be in a minute Lynsey."

It was while Brendan was momentarily distracted that Ste decided to do a runner. He practically flew down the stairs, breaking into a run as he reached the door. He knew it was stupid to run away from your boss, but it seemed in Brendan's presence he could barely think straight. He just needed a minute to get his head together, work out how he was feeling.

The night was bitter cold, with an eerily big full moon sitting above the club. Ste leaned against the wall of DOA, closing his eyes. Tonight he'd set out to prove Simon Walker wrong, but the only thing he'd ended up doing was watching a couple have sex and probably getting himself sacked. Maybe it was for the best, all he did during his shifts was fantasise about shagging the boss any way.

"I'm such an idiot." Ste moaned.

Something cold and wet brushing against his hand made Ste jump in shock. He glanced down and noticed a small dog looking up at him with sad eyes. He was pretty sure the breed was a spaniel or something.

"Hi ya." said Ste, he bent down and patted the dog on the head. He felt around for a collar wondering if the poor thing was lost. "Your name is..." he glanced down at the metal disk. "Nate. Well that's a proper stupid name for a dog."

The dog whined at him, seeming almost offended by his comment. But dogs couldn't be offended right? Ste knew he was starting to loose his mind. Something else in the moon light caught his eye; it looked like the arm of a mannequin sticking out of a black bag. He stood up and went to step towards it, but found his leg being pulled back. He glanced down and noticed the dog had its teeth clamped around his trouser leg, trying desperately to pull him backwards.

"Get off." muttered Ste, breaking free of the dog's grip. As he got closer to the bag Ste realised that it wasn't a part of a mannequin, but a real human arm. The arm was deadly white, with a bone jutting out from the top. Ste opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out as a cold hand clamped itself over his mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks** **again to everyone who's reviewed so far. We're loving writing it, and particularly like to know what you think. We'll keep going, though remember it is holiday season so some updates might not be as quick as the first few.**

**Enjoy!**

Steven screamed anyway, his voice muffled by Brendan's hand, which didn't seem to calm the boy down.

"Shh!" Brendan breathed, warmly into the boy's ear. "Shh, it's OK, I'm here!"

"Yer what?" Steven shouted, though with the hand over his mouth it came out more like "Mm mph".

"Shhh, Steven," Brendan repeated; trying to be calm and collected enough for the both of them, despite the distracting nearness of Steven's exquisite bottom to his more than willing penis. "It's OK."

He could imagine what Steven was thinking. How could it be OK? There was a body in pieces right in front of them. Brendan had smelt it the moment he stepped outside the club, hoping to check on his fleeing employee. The slightly decomposing flesh and that annoying little dog would have been enough to turn his stomach, had he had a normal stomach.

"If I let go of your mouth do you promise not to scream?" asked Brendan, voice urgent but in control.

Steven nodded, though Brendan was not sure if he was listening. Brendan let him go slowly enough that he could be in control if the boy tried to run or scream. Thankfully he didn't try either.

He turned to Brendan equally slowly, "It's a body!" he gasped.

"Yes, Steven," Brendan replied.

Steven added, "A real one."

"Yes Steven," Brendan repeated, and Steven gave him that look that all humans seemed to give when Brendan did something they didn't think was human.

"There's a real dead body in a bin outside your club!"

Brendan raised an eyebrow, "I know that, Steven," he said, "I can… see him." He had thought about saying 'smell' but remembered in time that Steven hadn't figured out the whole vampire thing yet and thought it probably true that right now, in front of a dead body was a bad time to point that out.

"But…" stuttered Steven, "but…"

Steven was adorable when he stuttered. Brendan couldn't help but smile at him. "Look, come back inside, I'll get ye something to drink and you can calm down."

Brendan could have predicted the next question out of Steven's mouth.

"Did you do this?"

Brendan found himself irrationally annoyed. What did this kid think of him? As if he would do something like this! He was far too stylish to leave dead bodies in such a mess not entirely in a bin. "Seriously?" he said, "You think I dumped bits of some bloke around outside my club?"

The boy was probably still in shock. Brendan should probably forgive him for the next thing he said.

"But did you?"

"No," he said, making the word slow and enunciated in case Steven felt the need to not believe him again.

"But… what… wh… why…"

Steven was getting himself worked up now; stumbling over his words, gasping his breath and Brendan felt an urge he'd almost never felt before.

"Hey," he said gently, "hey," he wrapped his arm around Steven and Steven let him, leaning his face against his chest. "Shhh," Brendan soothed, feeling the warm body in his arms. He wanted another taste of that beautiful hot blood he could smell and craved, but never wanting a single drop to spill from the perfect creature before him. He took in the gorgeous scent again, felt the perfect shape in his arms and held the boy close until he stopped shaking. "You alright?" he whispered, stroking the soft hair gently.

Steven nodded against his chest, which Brendan took as a no and held on.

"It'll be OK," he said, "I'll just move it."

Steven pulled away. "You what?" he said, in that same stroppy voice he'd used to tell Brendan he wasn't going to sleep with him.

"What?" said Brendan, wondering what he'd done now.

"We can't just… move it!" said Steven, aghast.

"I don't want them finding it outside my club!" said Brendan, stating the obvious.

"But… that's where it is!" Steven protested.

"So that's why we're moving it," Brendan said slowly.

Steven looked a little lost, "But…" he began to protest, but Brendan saw his chance. Steven had resisted the mind control before, but he surely couldn't resist forever.

"Steven," he said, "go back inside, go into one of the booths and wait for me." He looked the boy up and down again, "and take all your clothes off."

Steven looked at him with wide eyes, with that tell-tale sign that he wanted nothing more than to submit to Brendan's will. Brendan smirked – he knew he still had it, whatever Mitzeee said. The boy turned slowly, obviously to do as instructed and Brendan only let himself feel a moment of excitement at the treat that he was going to partake in later. He turned his attention to the task in hand, moving this disgusting mess before him.

"Er, no. Right, you've got to call the police."

It was Steven. Back again. With attitude that made Brendan want to throw him against the nearest flat surface and fuck him until he screamed or bang his own head against a brick wall.

"Steven…"

"We've got to call the police."

"Oh yeah; that'll be great, won't it? Having a bunch of idiots trailing through my business."

"What have you got to hide, eh?" Steven demanded, like it was that simple.

But it would seem like that to the boy, wouldn't it? He didn't have to explain the bi-weekly blood arrivals, or the fact he couldn't even approach a window while the sun was up. And Brendan wasn't about to tell him.

"Fine," he said, "call them. I'm getting a drink." He glanced down at the dog he'd temporarily forgotten about. The thing had been deadly quiet and still since he'd arrived. Brendan could sense that something was not quite right about it. "And you can get lost too, mutt!"

He sniffed the air to make sure no one was around that might wish to harm Steven and stormed back into the club. Mitzeee was looking at him with that same infuriating expression she had worn since he'd given Steven the job, so he growled at her.

"Bored of serving already?"

"No," she said, maddeningly unaffected by his quite exceptionally developed menace, "but there's been some fun things to watch in here recently."

"Glad I'm keeping you entertained, now why don't you go keep an eye on our newest member off staff? It'll be very annoying trying to explain to his wife if he gets eaten."

"Usually you've got enough eyes on him for all of us," Mitzeee teased; but accepted the instruction, so Brendan made his way round the bar and helped himself to some whiskey. He'd barely had a moment's quiet before an annoying presence gave him something else to glare at.

"What do you want, Macca?" he growled.

The rodent faced man was standing to the side of the bar, looking scared to talk to him and scared not to. "You," he said, quietly.

Brendan rolled his eyes, "I thought I made you forget or something," he mumbled, half to himself. 'Can't anyone just do as they're told any more?' he briefly wondered if Steven's resilient nature was catching.

"Not even you can make someone forget the love of their lives!" Macca cried overly dramatically, making Brendan groan with annoyance.

"I thought I could but I seem to be having an off week."

"Brendan, didn't you hear me? I said I…"

"I'm not interested Macca!" Brendan snapped, "Go home, get a life and just leave me alone!"

"But…" Macca protested, his stammering sounding nowhere near as adorable as Steven's.

"Goodbye, Macca!" Brendan repeated and stormed back up to the walkway to stew. Bloody Macca, how had he broken Brendan's instructions? He must have bumped into another vampire or something. Steven though, seemed uncontrollable. That was annoying. Brendan was going to have to tell him the truth or something; then Steven would be all sulky and even less likely to sleep with him. Even though Steven clearly really, really wanted to sleep with Brendan! Stupid boy.

He heard the police a few minutes later. He hoped Mitzeee had the good sense to start work on that for him.

She had that. A small group of police officers (both male and female) were gathered around her, hanging on her every word and staring at her with happy vacant smiles on their faces. Brendan nodded his approval at her and went in search of Steven.

He found the boy sat on a doorstep a few metres from the club. He was hugging his knees and looking vulnerable. Brendan didn't do vulnerable. It made him feel awkward and embarrassed, he left vulnerable for someone else to deal with.

He sat down next to Steven. He gave up on his own sanity and said "You alright?"

"Yeah, course," said Steven. Brendan smiled. He might have done that once upon a time, pretended to be fine when he was anything but.

"Course," he said, putting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I mean," said Steven, "I'm a bit… you know…"

"Yeah," said Brendan. He wasn't sure what Steven had been going to say, but he was wondering why he hadn't fetched Cheryl to deal with this.

"I mean, who would do something like that?" said Steven.

Brendan grimaced, and tried not to say 'me'. He knew the corpse had been drained of all of its blood, even if Steven didn't.

"I mean, I keep telling my kids there's no such thing as monsters," Steven continued, "and it's not true is it? There are monsters; they're everywhere!"

Brendan nodded. There were monsters. Brendan should know. He was one.

"Yeah, but that's what you're for, isn't it?" he mumbled, "to protect them from the monsters."

Steven frowned, and bit his lip.

"What, you don't agree?" said Brendan.

"Don't know," said Steven.

"Tell me about them," Brendan said, before his brain could point out how little he actually wanted to know about Steven's children. Children were the ultimate cock block. To all but the worst of monsters.

"Ah, they're great!" said Steven, without hesitation, "Leah's dead clever right, really imaginative! And Lucas, he's only little right, but he's always listening right and learning! They're my world, them two! I'd do anything for me kids, me!"

Far from finding Steven's descriptions distasteful as he had expected, Brendan found himself almost smiling. "They're lucky to have you," he said, completely honestly.

Steven looked flushed, "Naah," he said, "what, some waste of space on minimum wage for a Dad? Nah, they deserve better."

Brendan looked at him sharply. That couldn't be how he saw himself could it? "You think that matters to them?" he said, "Was it money you wished for as a kid?"

"No," said Steven, quickly enough to be sure the answer was honest.

"No," Brendan echoed, "me neither."

They looked at each other, and understanding seemed to flow between them. Steven may be hundreds of years younger than Brendan, but some things never changed, and they both knew the other was the same. Or had been before Brendan became a monster.

"Oi, Brendan!" snapped Mitzeee, "I've been calling you!"

Brendan shrugged, "Didn't hear," he mumbled.

Mitzeee raised an eyebrow, "How could _you_ not hear that?"

Brendan narrowed his eyes at her and Steven jumped to his defence.

"Well, I didn't hear you either."

Mitzeee smiled at him, "Aw, bless you, you sweetheart," she said, but added no further comment, "they should probably talk to you, or they'll only think to do it later." She nodded towards the still vacantly smiling police officers who were hovering nearby.

"Yeah," said Steven, "I did find it after all."

Brendan put his hand on Steven's shoulder again. Steven was unlikely to react well to realising the entire police response to his finding were under Mitzeee's mind control. "It's alright," he offered, trying to sound kind rather than controlling, "you didn't see anything I didn't see. You get home to them kids of yours. I'll make sure they know everything they need to know."

Steven looked tempted, "No, I should stay. The kids are in bed anyway."

"It's fine, Steven," said Brendan, "I can deal with it."

A slight sliver of suspicion crossed Steven's face. Mitzeee must have spotted it too.

"Ah, go home Ste," she said, "He doesn't pay you enough to deal with stuff like this. It's his problem now."

Steven still looked uncomfortable, but nodded. "Right then," he mumbled, "night."

"Night!" said Mitzeee with a glowing smile. Brendan only nodded. He felt kind of odd watching Steven starting to leave.

"Aw, bless," Mitzeee whispered as Brendan's eyes refused to quit the perfect form as it walked off, "gonna miss him, are you?"

Brendan didn't bother looking at her as he sneered; "If you'd miss this job, Mitzeee, then you should watch what you say."

In the corner of his eye he saw her grin widen, "I'll take that as a yes, then, shall I?" she chimed, happily before wandering off towards the club. Brendan gave her a glare before turning his attention to the wet policeman looking at him expectantly. He sighed. This was going to be tedious.

* * *

Ste felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he walked home. Tonight he'd discovered a body, another one! How was he supposed to defend his kids and Amy when whatever monster was prowling the streets of Hollyoaks was so close to his own doorstep? He'd never felt so afraid in his entire life as when he'd seen that misshaped dead arm, but Brendan had made him feel safe again. Brendan was amazing, he'd even let him go home early to be with his kids. It was like the man proper understood him.

As Ste walked down the familiar road to his home, something made him stop dead. It was if something had whizzed past him at speed. Ste suddenly was aware that he wasn't alone, there was something here with him. He turned and noticed nothing, but that didn't necessarily mean he was alone. His heart rate began to increase and Ste could feel something flooding through every part of his body: fear.

"Excuse me." said a voice.

Ste nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice from behind him. He turned slowly, knowing there hadn't been anyone there before. Stood in front of him was a short man, with a slightly deranged look in his eyes.

"Are you Ste Hay?" he asked calmly. It was like he was trying to absorb every part of Ste with his eyes.

"Depends who's asking." said Ste bravely, not happy to be stopped by this toad-like little man. Didn't he realise there was a murderer on the loose?

"So you are Ste Hay then?" asked the man again. "My name is Macca, I'm Brendan's boyfriend."

Ste swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. The last thing he needed was some jealous boyfriend going after him when he hadn't done anything wrong. "And?" asked Ste, pretending the information didn't bother him at all.

"I'm here to warn you Ste. You need to listen to me." Macca launched himself forward, grabbing both of Ste's arms with his hands. His finger nails were almost piercing the skin. "You need to quit DOA, you need to stay away from Brendan Brady."

"You what?" asked Ste. This man clearly had a screw loose! It seemed Ste was fast becoming a nutter magnet. First the staff of DOA, then Simon Walker and now this Macca man; couldn't a guy just walk home in peace for once? Ste tugged his arms from Macca's grip.

Macca was violently shaking, getting more and more worked up with every word. "Please, you have to listen to me. He's dangerous, you don't know what he's really like. I used to be like you, strong and healthy. Brendan drains that all from you, he destroys everything he touches and I don't want the same to happen to you."

Ste felt a fresh wave of anger, he would never become like this Macca. "I don't know who you are and I don't really care. I've had a long night and I'm going home to my kids." he strolled straight past Macca, not looking back even for a minute. Ste was sick of people telling him what to do and how to live his life.

"Please Ste." Macca desperately pleaded.

Ste carried on walking, nothing in the world was going to make him turn back and talk to that man, so he shoved headphones into his ears and listened to Chery Cole. This meant that Ste didn't see a shadow creep up behind Macca, nor did he hear the man's muffled scream as he was violently dragged away into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Greetings! Welcome to another chapter of DOA. A handful of you now know who we are, but a lot of you still do not. So we thank you all for your reviews and guesses. Enjoy the next chapter.**

Ste had never been to a place like this before. He thought he'd seen something like it on the telly though. It was dead posh, but classy too: understated. It wasn't the sort of place Ste usually dreamt about.

A plush, thick, white rug softened the smooth rich wooden floor of the largest, most luxurious room Ste had ever seen. The ceiling was high and the place was dark, the sky outside dotted with stars and a stream of pale light from the moon glowed through the window. The air was filled with a warm scent that Ste didn't recognise, yet made him feel content and restful.

A large pair of French doors opened without any help; which Ste supposed wasn't odd in a dream, so he approached them and looked through onto a night time garden. Trees rustled gently in the breeze that made the night flowers and long grasses dance playfully.

"I'm getting good at this," greeted a playful voice behind him. Ste didn't have to turn to know who it was. His whole body grew alert, until it almost felt like it was vibrating with anticipation.

"Good at what?" he asked. He leant forward; his arms on the rail of the balcony, observing the beautiful sky above them and probably displaying his bum to Brendan. It didn't matter – it was a dream. Body consciousness was irrelevant. And Brendan wouldn't remember anyway. It was Ste's dream, not his.

"Nothin'," Brendan replied, appearing beside Ste. Ste tried to be cool and not look, but he couldn't keep it up. And anyway, it was a dream.

Brendan looked amazing. He always looked amazing of course; pale, strong, with stunning dark hair and beautiful blue eyes that looked so sad. But with the moonlight shining on him and a shirt open low enough to display enough of his strong hairy chest to make mouths water, Ste knew he wouldn't have been able to resist if his life depended on it.

"So," said Brendan, a slight smirk failing to mar his perfection, "what do you think of the place?"

"What?" said Ste.

"Your dream house, isn't?" said Brendan.

"Er, hardly," Ste replied, scornfully.

"Well, it's your dream, isn't it?" Brendan pointed out, his smirk growing.

"Yeah, but…" but Ste wasn't sure what the "but" was. Why was he dreaming about a place like this?

"I think it's good taste, actually," said Brendan, "masculine but smart, you know."

He had an odd little self-satisfied smile that Ste couldn't understand. It was quite annoying and Ste wasn't going to put up with it. "Oi! You ain't allowed to tease me in my own dream!" he snapped

"Aren't I?" Brendan asked with amusement.

"No!"

"Right," said Brendan, "what shall we talk about then?"

It was Ste's turn to smirk. "It's my dream, we don't have to talk at all."

Brendan's smirk disappeared and he gazed into Ste's eyes. "What would you prefer to do then?" he asked.

Ste bit his lip. Why was he being shy in a dream?

"What do you fancy, Steven?" Brendan asked, "A walk in the moonlight? A sing song? What?"

Ste frowned at him. If this was a proper, nice dream Brendan would already know. He wondered if he was about to find himself naked in school assembly any time soon.

Brendan stood straight and turned his whole body towards Ste. Ste copied; watching Brendan curiously as the older man stepped closer, confidently.

"Or something more…" Brendan paused, bringing a hand up to Ste's face and stroking it. Ste let out a breath of relief. "Intimate," Brendan concluded, lips inches from Ste's.

Ste didn't swallow or even feel nervous. This was a dream. They could do what they wanted.

He leant forward, watching Brendan's expression for signs of emotion and pressed his lips to Brendan's. It was fine. It was OK to kiss your boss in a dream. He couldn't hold it against him in the morning, because it was a dream. Brendan had no idea this was happening inside Ste's mind.

The kiss itself was bloody amazing. Like a taste of something glorious. The softness of Brendan's mouth contrasted with the roughness of his stubble, then again with surprisingly soft hairs of his moustache.

Brendan broke the kiss far too soon, which Ste was not happy about. Maybe there was still going to be a sudden revelation of an audience of laughing people. But Brendan's face was still warm and so close, eyes locked onto Ste's. He snaked a hand around Ste's waist, pulling their bodies closer together. Brendan's other hand came to rest on Ste's hairline and he restarted the kiss, this time supporting Ste's body completely; curving his spine to increase the amount of their bodies that could touch. Lips, tongue; an assault that left Ste breathless and when they eventually broke away, Ste was relieved to find that Brendan was at least as affected by the kiss as he was.

"Do you think our kisses will be this good in real life?" Brendan asked in a husky whisper.

"Will?" said Ste, "you're cocky in my dreams!"

Brendan grinned at him, "You're dreaming about me. I think this is going to happen."

"This might be my nightmare," Ste pointed out, "you don't know."

Brendan smirked at him and trailed the hand from behind Ste's head down to the front of his trousers to feel the hardness there, making Ste gasp. "I didn't think so," Brendan whispered.

"Oh God," Ste groaned, grabbing Brendan's head and desperately kissing him again. Brendan's hand flew behind Ste; holding his arse and pushing their groins together, sending Ste into a state of desperate need. This was ridiculous. It was just a dream, no matter how amazing it made Ste feel.

He got lost in the kiss; the beautiful, perfect kiss that it was. After a few seconds he couldn't care what was up and what was down. He couldn't even feel the floor beneath his feet anymore. All he could do was cling harder, more desperately, to Brendan's tall and muscular form.

He mewled when it ended, but Brendan didn't stop. He planted gentle kisses in a path along Ste's jawbone, every one making goose pimples bloom where his lips touched.

"Look down," the Irishman whispered.

Ste was barely coherent anymore, but he managed to obey. They were floating. If this wasn't a dream he might have screamed. As it was he clung harder to Brendan, throwing his legs around the older man's waist. Brendan grinned, "Told you I was good at this."

"Bloody hell!" Ste cried.

"That's the effect you have on me, Steven," Brendan breathed; joining their mouths again. Ste clung tighter with legs and arms, not scared of falling as much as he was scared of losing contact with Brendan.

"You ready?" Brendan hissed, voice broken with need.

Ste gasped "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Brendan's lips found Ste's neck and as inexplicably as he had before, smelt him.

"I bet you'd taste amazing!" Brendan breathed.

It was such an odd thing to say that Ste ignored it. He groaned at the beautiful feeling of those lips on his neck. He was probably being shameless, but it didn't matter. It was just a dream. Brendan would never know about it.

Their dream clothes were wonderfully unreal. Irrelevant. They were vanishing even as the two men set each other on fire with desire.

A cry interrupted them.

"What's that?" whispered Brendan.

"Er…" said Ste. It sounded like Lucas. But this dream was a good one. Amy could deal with it. "Nothing," he said, pushing Brendan's mouth back against his neck.

"Ste!" shouted a voice.

Ste groaned. Brendan's face showed confused annoyance.

"Ste! I'm on the loo, can you sort out Lucas?"

Ste groaned again. Brendan growled.

"Amy," said Ste by way of explanation.

"I know," said Brendan, "I hate Amy."

Ste woke up feeling how unfair that was. Brendan had never even met Amy! Then he realised he was being ridiculous. Brendan didn't actually hate Amy. That was a dream! And it was completely normal to be this turned on by a dream. He glanced down at the bulge in his boxers, he'd probably have to sort that out later.

Lucas had wet the bed. It brought Ste back to earth with a bump, but after his son stopped crying his thoughts returned to the wicked dream. It was almost time to get up anyway.

* * *

Ste pulled on his favourite hoodie and couldn't help but touch his neck again. He'd been doing that all day. Sure that he could feel the brush of Brendan's lips and sharp teeth. The thought made his cheeks burn and his heart race so fast he thought it was going to beat out of his chest. Ste wanted Brendan, badly. He'd never wanted someone so much in his entire life, it was like he was a moth drawn to a flame. Ste's body burned and ached with his desire for Brendan, it was like his blood was buzzing through his veins.

The dream...the dream had been amazing. It was everything Ste had been imagining and more. But it was proper weird to think about your boss like that, wasn't it? The Brendan of his dreams was very different to the real Brendan. Ste wasn't sure which one he preferred, but it was nice to feel desired for once (even if it wasn't real).

"Ste, aren't you going to be late?" asked Amy from the kitchen.

Ste took one last look in the mirror, trying to smooth down his hair that just wouldn't stay flat "Yeah, I'm just about to leave." he snorted remembering dream Brendan's frustrations with Amy.

"Don't go finding any more you know what's." said Amy, keeping her voice low.

"I don't like finding 'em you know." Ste argued defensively. "It's proper freaky when I do."

Amy bit her lip, unable to mask her concern. "You don't think it's someone trying to give us a message do you?"

"What do you mean?"

Amy stepped closer to Ste, closing the door to the kitchen and blocking out the noise of the kids. "Don't you think it's strange it's you who keeps finding these bodies? They got left outside your house and your place of work. It's just all feeling too much of a coincidence. What if we've upset someone and this is their way of paying us back. What if we're next?"

"We won't be next." stated Ste firmly.

Amy blinked, surprised by the certainty. "How can you be sure?" she whispered.

Ste couldn't help but worry about how young and vulnerable the mother of his children sounded. The answer was almost obvious, but he couldn't figure out what it was. "I just know, alright?"

It was only when Ste was walking to work ten minutes later that it finally came to him. They weren't in danger because Brendan would protect them. The thought was almost laughable, but it was true. It was like the time Leah stuck her hands into wet concrete outside the house. It was dry before anyone knew what she'd done and now a permanent fixture on their street. The same could be said about Brendan, Ste had only known him a few days but he knew some how he was there and would protect them. He'd appeared and made an impact just as quickly as Leah's hand prints.

Ste was half way to the club when he noticed someone sitting on the pavement. It was almost dark by then and he decided it was best for him to avoid any trouble. He was about to avoid them by crossing the road, when he suddenly recognised the clothes and rat-like features.

"Come to have another go, have you?" asked Ste angrily.

Macca didn't move and continued to stare unblinkingly down at the ground.

"You think this little game of yours is really going to work? Stalking me and pretending you can't hear me now? I'm not going to stay away from Brendan and you can't make me. I don't care what you think he is, I don't believe it. There's no such things as vampires!' Ste marched forward and stood over an unmoving Macca. "Do you hear me?"

Macca remained deadly silent and unmoving.

Ste angrily bent down and grabbed Macca's shoulders, he was about to shake him when he released something just wasn't right. Macca was completely stiff, solid almost and completely freezing cold. His eyes were open, unseeing and unblinking: dead. The body flopped down onto the pavement, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Macca, Brendan's apparent boyfriend, was dead. Macca, who only hours before had warned him about Brendan Brady, was dead.

He almost threw himself away from the body and was violently sick in the gutter. He continued to heave until there was no bile left, just acidic air that burned his throat. He sat on the curb rocking up and down, unable to do anything. Before when he'd found Will's head or the body pieces it hadn't bothered him like this. They were just pieces, parts of faceless people he didn't know. It had terrified and traumatised him, but he'd managed to push it to the back of his head. But this time it was different, this time it was someone he'd briefly known and talked to. Ste may very well have been the last person to see Macca alive. He again dry heaved into the gutter, his stomach now completely empty.

"Are you okay?"

Ste almost threw himself into the arms of the person sitting next to him. He didn't question how they'd slipped silently next to him, he was too terrified for that. His finger nails dug into the other man's chest, trying to anchor himself in the present.

"I warned you this would happen." said the man. "This is what happens to people who get close to Brendan Brady. He destroys them, just like everything else he touches."

A wave of red hot rage shot through Ste and he angrily shoved Simon Walker away. "A man's been murdered and all you can think to do is blame Brendan, you're pathetic!"

"It's the truth." stated Walker. "When will you finally see what that man is? He's a monster and if you're not careful you'll be his next victim."

"Brendan wouldn't hurt me!" Ste said, not sounding as sure as he would have liked. "He isn't like that." He remembered how gentle and caring he'd been in his dream.

"Oh Ste." said Walker, his voice almost patronizing like he was talking to a small child. "He's exactly like that. I knew that man over there. He was Brendan's lover and I tried to help him. Just like you he wouldn't listen to me and now look where its got him."

"How do I know you didn't kill him?" asked Ste defiantly, he couldn't believe Brendan would do this.

Walker flashed him a smile, revealing his long pointy teeth. 'I'm the one who keeps the monsters at bay, keeps children like your kiddies safe every night. Not the monster itself. The real monster is Brendan, the wolf dressed in sheep's clothing."

Somehow Ste didn't feel reassured by Walker's words. Why did he feel safe with Brendan, but not with the man whose apparent job was to protect people from monsters? There was something about Walker that unnerved him, something unnatural and almost unhinged. Ste once again glanced at Macca's body, the only mark on it seemed to be two small puncture marks. It was his face, however, that was the worst part. A permanent look of terror was forever fixed on his rat-like features. Whatever had killed Macca had terrified him. What if it had been Brendan? What if he was the monster that Walker said he was?

"That's it." said Walker, as if he was reading his mind. "It's starting to all make sense now, isn't it Ste? Don't ignore those thoughts, you have to see Brendan for who he really is before you become another Macca or Vinnie." his eyes were burrowing into Ste's intensely, hypnotic almost.

Brendan was a murderer, Brendan murdered all those people. Brendan wanted him dead. He was nothing to Brendan but his next meal.

"Stop it!" hissed Ste, painfully, gripping his own head. After a moment the voice and pressure that were pressing down on his head were gone. "What are you?"

"A vampire slayer!" growled Walker, almost taken a back by Ste's defiance. He was getting more and more frustrated, agitated even. Things didn't seemed to be going the way he wanted them to.

"If you're just a vampire slayer then how come you can you get inside my head and plant thoughts there? Even Brendan hasn't done that." said Ste. "You're just as bad as you say he is."

"I'm nothing like him!" Walker almost howled, his face full of pain and hatred.

The sound of police sirens caused Walker to freeze. "I've got to go, the police are coming. They can't find me here. I've got things to do before the night's over.' he desperately stepped forward and gripped onto Ste's face with his long nails. "Promise me you'll think about what I've said about Brendan. Promise me Ste!" his nails dug further into Ste's cheeks with every word.

"Alright!" cried Ste.

Satisfied, Walker finally released his grip on Ste's face. His eyes mercurial filled with unknown emotions and madness. With a grace Ste would never be capable of, the vampire slayer turned with a swish of his coat and disappeared into the night. Blending into the darkness within seconds.

Ste slid back to the cold pavement and began to shiver violently again. Before tonight he was almost sure Brendan was on the side of good, but what if he wasn't? Macca had tried to warn him and now he was dead. Even Walker seemed consumed in a madness that Brendan seemed to be the cause of. As the blue lights drew closer something occurred to Ste that made his insides feel like ice. This was the third body he had found in the space of three days. Amy was right, it was too many to be a coincidences. Someone was obviously sending him a message or warning, what if the message was that he was next?


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Thanks again all you lovely people who are reading and reviewing. We do love to hear what you think.**

**Lots of guesses about who we are, which we love. Some of the people we are not include Mercurial, Flower Picture, Tesswer and Soggy Teabag. We love them all, but we are not them. Keep guessing. We love your guesses.**

* * *

Brendan awoke that evening in a mixed mood. On the one hand he was now completely certain he was going to get Steven into his bed, more than willingly. There was no way the boy could resist the obvious attraction forever. He would cave in no time and last night's dream had proved it.

On the other hand he'd been denied what would probably (if Steven's desperate and powerful grip on his waist and shoulders was anything to go by), have been the best dream sex of his life. Again by Amy. Bloody Amy. Getting to have Steven beside her all this time, just because she got herself pregnant. Brendan hated Amy. Brendan should really have her killed. He wondered if that would help or hinder his journey to Steven's pants.

He arrived at the club an hour before it was due to open. It should have been early enough to avoid the never-ending feud between the two women in his life. It wasn't. Sometimes it was a surprisingly relief to Brendan that he was gay.

"Brendan! Mitzeee keeps calling me fat!"

Brendan groaned. Cheryl was clattering towards him in ridiculous heels that she could barely walk in, as Mitzeee clattered behind

"I never said that! I just asked her when she was going to start looking like a vampire."

Brendan wished vampires could get headaches. Then he might have an excuse to go home.

"Yeah and then she told me I should drink low fat blood! I mean, there's no such thing is there?"

"It was a joke! Take a joke, Cheryl!"

"Are you two ever going to give me a break?" Brendan moaned.

"Don't know what you mean," said Mitzeee with a tiny smirk.

"Brendan!" cried Cheryl, eyes wide looking ready to cry.

"Sorry!" Brendan groaned, instantly regretting the effects his words had on his sister, feeling a pang of guilt at the hurt on her face. Cheryl didn't look appeased.

"Am I annoying, Brendan?" she asked, her voice almost childlike.

"No! Course not!" Brendan replied.

Cheryl didn't seem to hear, "Is that why I'm single, Bren?"

"Eugh," sneered Mitzeee, "how needy can you get?"

"No!" Brendan cried, "you've just not met the right man."

"Of course, babe!" agreed Mitzeee, and Brendan looked at her in surprise. He shouldn't have as Mitzeee continued, "It's hard to meet a man who thinks leopard-print spandex is a good look, but he's got to be out there somewhere."

Brendan groaned again. Thankfully Mitzeee's barbs almost always stoked temper in Cheryl rather than her self-misery.

"At least I don't dress like a two bit whore!"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," sighed Brendan and he left them to it. He wandered towards his refuge of the gangway above the dance floor.

"Er, excuse me?" said a quiet voice behind him.

He turned slowly to stare at the skinny blond woman who had just arrived. She smelt human and he should have noticed her arrival, but was distracted by Mitzeee and Cheryl. There was something familiar clinging to her scent. Maybe that was why he hadn't been alarmed by her arrival.

She was clearly nervous too. And stressed.

"Are you Brendan?" she asked.

Brendan took a step towards her, using his height as the only intimidation he probably needed with someone so frail, although she was taller than she looked. She had Steven's scent on her, as well as a general scent of children; he could guess who she was. Nevertheless, he said: "Depends who's asking."

"I'm Amy," she said, "Leah and Lucas's Mum."

An angry monster reared its ugly head in Brendan's stomach. He hated Amy.

"Well?" he said, unkindly, "what do you want?"

"Er, Ste asked me to come," she said, "it's not… I mean obviously there's been a mistake, because obviously he wouldn't do something like that… I mean, he couldn't!"

Ste. That stupid name again. Who could call someone as breathtakingly beautiful as Steven such a silly, nonsensical name?!

"Yeah, get to the point, Amy," he instructed, lip curling in distaste. This pathetic, skinny little thing had slept with Steven.

"Ste can't make his shift," she said worriedly.

Brendan put his head to one side trying to pretend this didn't matter to him as much as oxygen did to a human. "Why's that?" he asked.

"He's…" Amy shifted, looking uncomfortable, "I mean, it's obviously a mistake, but… he's been arrested."

Brendan took a moment to understand the words. "What?" he said.

"He didn't do it!" Amy cried, "Please don't sack him! We need this job!"

"Arrested for what?" Brendan demanded; taking an unplanned step closer, not sure if he wanted to encourage or intimidate.

Amy bit her lip. "Er, I need to go pick up the kids from nursery and find him a lawyer and…"

"Arrested for what, Amy?" Brendan repeated, growling this time.

"Murder," she whispered, and Brendan suspected a human might not have heard her she was so quiet. Brendan was not human.

"What?" he growled, furiously.

She misunderstood the fury. "He didn't do it!" she cried, "of course he didn't; he just found the bodies, right? But the police think it's suspicious that he found three, but then someone reported the last one before he could, and…"

She was rambling now. Brendan put a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"Hey, I know he didn't do it," he said.

She looked at him wide eyed, "Do you?"

"Course," he said, "No one who knows him could ever really think he's capable of something like that!"

She blinked at him. He could feel the next question she was going to ask. It would be about how he knew Steven so well after just a couple of days. He didn't want to answer it so he continued before she could ask.

"Look, I'll sort out the lawyer stuff," he assured her, "I've got a good one, loads of experience. You go look after those kids of yours, yeah?"

She blinked at him again, looking at him like he was some sort of super being. "Are you sure?" she said.

"Course," he said again, "I'll have him home in no time."

"I… I don't know what to say…" she stammered, clearly overwhelmed.

"Just look after those kids, yeah?" Brendan repeated. If he played this right he could get a thankful Steven all to himself for a whole night, without Amy even questioning where he was. "I'll have him call you as soon as he's a free man."

"And… and he's not sacked?" Amy asked worriedly.

Brendan chuckled, as darkly as he could, "I won't be letting go of Steven that easily, Amy." he stated, hoping she'd pick up on his meaning. She didn't. She threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh thank you, thank you!" she said, clinging to him.

She hugged him. Amy, whom he hated. He shivered, wanting to shove her off and throw her out of the club. He did neither, and waiting uncomfortably for it to end.

"OK," he said, feeling massively awkward as she let go.

"I've got to get the kids," she said, "but thank you, Brendan!" She almost ran from the club and Brendan sneered after her. He still hated her, possibly more so for showing faith and care for Steven and Steven's children. He didn't want to hate her and feel grudging respect for her.

He turned to tell his sister and hanger on what he had to do. They'd eavesdropped. Because they were not going to let him have secrets.

"So, lover boy's been arrested?" sang Mitzeee. "Who'd have thought such a skinny little thing could be capable of murder?"

"Of course he didn't do it!" scorned Cheryl, "What are you going to do, Brendan?"

Brendan rolled his eyes at the pair of them. "I'm going to get him out, of course," he said.

* * *

Ste was getting annoyed.

"I told ya! I just found 'em," he said for what felt like the thousandth time. "I mean, who reports murders they committed themselves, eh?"

DI Trent looked at him levelly and coldly. "Someone hoping they could say that to the cops?" he suggested with no more passion than someone suggesting an alternative for dinner.

Ste groaned. "Look, I'd only just left home, right? Ask Amy! And I was working when I found the other one! And aren't I supposed to have a lawyer or something before you ask me stuff like this?"

Trent's bottom lip curled, showing Ste exactly what he thought of that system. Ste folded his arms.

"Well, I ain't saying anything else, right?"

He meant it, he really did. But he'd said it a number of times already. He had been gobsmacked when still in shock at Walker's words and finding Macca's lifeless body, the arriving police had aggressively demanded his name and what he was doing. He'd mentioned that it was he who had discovered two other bodies. The police had glanced at each other, then quickly shoved him against the bonnet of the car and cuffed him.

He'd complained forcefully, but it had made no difference. And now he was sat in an interview room at Hollyoaks police station and this bloke was looking at him like he was an unimaginable monster. And just like all the other times he couldn't help himself.

"I ain't done nothing!" he cried.

Trent actually rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said, "tell me about your job."

Ste screwed up his nose. "Why do you wanna know about that?"

Trent shrugged, "Gotta do something til your brief gets here," he said, "and anyway, it's just a fact isn't it? Nothing to do with the case?"

Ste supposed it couldn't hurt. "I'm a barman," he said.

Trent kept looking at him expectantly, waiting for Ste to say more. It couldn't hurt.

"At a club called DOA."

"Like Vinnie?" said Trent.

Ste snapped his mouth closed, realising the trap Trent had set for him. Trent smirked with satisfaction.

"So how long have you worked there, then?" Trent asked.

Ste held back a snarl as he answered "A couple of days."

"Interesting," said Trent, theatrically checking some papers in front of him, "so basically, Vinnie went missing and you got his job?"

"Well…" Ste said, knowing it was true.

Trent didn't let him continue. "You are definitely someone who has benefited from these disappearances."

"I…"

Trent was on a roll now, "One of the only people I can find who has, in fact."

"No, right…"

"You killed Vinnie for gain, but then you got a taste for it, didn't you?"

"No!" Ste was shouting now.

"Do you enjoy taking lives, Ste?" asked Trent, viciously.

"No!"

"Do you enjoy the power you have over a person? Enjoy having them at your mercy?"

"I haven't killed anyone!" shouted Ste.

"You…"

Trent never finished the accusation. The door flew open.

* * *

Brendan had felt like a loon arriving at the police station, flagged on each side by Mitzeee and Cheryl (apparently wanting nothing less than to make them all look like Charlie's Angels). He quickly got into it though.

"Excuse me," he said to the first young police officer he came across: a young woman in her mid-twenties, looking professional and smart, who looked at him with intelligent eyes that quickly told of her attraction to him. He smirked. "I'm looking for Steven Hay, I heard he's been brought in."

"Er…" she said, looking nervously about herself, "Are you his lawyer?"

Brendan smiled at her reassuringly, "Something like that," he said, "is he through there?"

"Er… I don't think I can just…"

Brendan looked her straight in the eyes. Her expression of nervousness relaxed and she gave him a gentle smile, Brendan knew he still had it. It was Steven that was somehow resisting his mind control. That boy was full of surprises. "Look at your sheet, sweetheart; everything's fine."

"I look at my sheet," the police officer repeated, "everything's fine."

"You will agree to take me to him," Brendan instructed, and the police officer was only too happy to agree.

"I will take you to him," she said, and turned towards the internal door that Brendan knew led to the cells. He glanced around. Mitzeee had got the duty sergeant smiling inanely in agreement, as Cheryl had a member of the public looking at her in confusion.

"Are you alright, dear?" asked the old lady sat in the waiting room, looking at Cheryl with mild concern, "you look a bit constipated."

"I'm fine!" Cheryl snapped, and turned on her heel to follow Brendan and Mitzeee through to the cold corridor beyond the door.

"Stay here," Brendan instructed the women; keen to feel the lion's share of Steven's gratitude himself, looking forward to the potential reward and not willing to share any of that with Mitzeee and Cheryl.

Mitzeee smirked at him knowingly, but Cheryl complained.

"Can't I help?" she moaned, like a child hoping to bake a cake.

"Oh, because that's what you've been doing up to now!" snapped Mitzeee.

Brendan turned his back on them and followed the waiting police officer who smiled charmingly at his approving look.

"He's in there," she said.

"Thank you, darling," Brendan said, "please show my sister and our friend back to the waiting area."

"I will show your sister and your friend back to the waiting area," the officer replied, with another smile. She obeyed and Brendan only spared the retreating forms of the three women the smallest of glances before turning his attention to the task in hand, the rescue of the man he … was currently obsessed with.

The door opened easily and he stepped through confidently. Steven was sat at a table, looking flustered, opposite a youngish dark haired police officer in plain clothes.

"Brendan?" Steven snapped, "What are you doing here?"

He didn't seem pleased to see him. Maybe he was embarrassed at the situation. He obviously hadn't realised Brendan was here to rescue him.

Brendan turned his full attention to the rude police officer who had had the audacity to arrest Steven. He had stood with surprise at Brendan's entrance.

"Excuse me, you can't just walk in here," he complained.

Brendan glared angrily into his eyes. "I can do whatever I like," he growled.

He saw the man's eyes lose their concentration. "You can…" the man blinked, surprised at his own words and Brendan experienced a moment of worry. In all his years as a vampire, just one mortal person had managed to resist the mind control and that was Steven. If a second person managed in the space of a few days, Brendan wasn't sure what he would do.

He stood a little taller and improved his intensity as he repeated "I can do whatever I like."

This time the officer caved, offering little less resistance than warm butter, "You can do whatever you like."

"'Eyar, what ya doin'?" Steven cried, angrily. Brendan ignored him, keeping his concentration on the scum before him.

"You have realised that Steven could not possibly have committed these crimes."

"I have realised that Steven could not possibly have committed these crimes."

"He has a solid and unbreakable alibi and besides, he would not be capable of anything so appalling."

"He has a solid and unbreakable alibi and besides, he would not be capable of anything so appalling."

"You have decided to let him go without charge."

"I have decided to let him go without charge."

"Good boy," Brendan smiled at him like a bug that had agreed to leave a picnic, "go fetch the paperwork then."

"I'll go and fetch the paperwork then," the cop said, stupidly and obediently left the room. Brendan kept part of his brain focused on him. He didn't think he would break the hold but it was always possible.

The rest of his brain focused on Steven.

Who for some reason still wasn't looking at him with adoration, admiration and gratitude.

"Steven," he greeted, hoping to prompt those emotions.

Steven looked at him askance, "What did you just do?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Brendan replied, automatically. He'd forgotten Steven hadn't figured out the vampire thing.

"Did you just control his brain?!" Steven cried.

"Maybe, a bit," Brendan said, strangely apologetically considering he'd done nothing wrong.

Steven looked somewhere between shocked and disgusted, "Have you controlled my brain?"

"No…" said Brendan, honestly but hesitantly.

"But you've tried, though haven't ya?"

Brendan did not like how this had turned out. "Hey, why am I being accused of stuff? I just saved your neck didn't I?"

"My neck didn't need saving!" Steven shouted at him, "I've done nothing wrong!"

"Yeah, but…"

"What are you, Brendan?"

Brendan was taken aback by the question. He couldn't admit this. He hated what he had been made. He hadn't been the one to choose it. It was only Steven's entrance to his existence that had stopped him ending it all. He needed Steven to stay and for that to happen Steven needed to get to know who he was, not what he was. He didn't want anything to get in the way of the relationship with this beautiful boy.

"I'm Brendan Brady," he said.

Steven looked at him appraisingly and Brendan realised there was a change; Steven now held a hint of fear that had not been there yesterday.

"Steven…" he started.

"I'm not going!" Steven stropped suddenly, folding his arms.

Brendan frowned, "Of course you're going, I just got you out."

"You did something weird and evil to get me out," Steven replied, "I didn't need you to."

Brendan took a deep breath to keep himself calm. "You're coming," he ordered, "or I will make you."

Steven glared at him, "I don't think you can," he said.

Brendan grumbled. The little bastard had figured him out, realised Brendan could control minds but not his own.

The look Steven gave him now was scathing, "Go away, Brendan," he said.

Brendan was pissed off now. The police officer returned; face still blank and gave him some paper, most of which was blank. Brendan took it wordlessly and shoved it into his pocket.

"Come on, Steven," he said.

Steven turned away from him, sitting stock still.

Brendan did the obvious thing. He picked the boy up and threw him over his shoulder.

He could hear Steven's protests, feel kicks to his front and hits on his back. But didn't care. He carried him out of the cell, through the waiting area full of smiling, contented, hypnotised people and confused Cheryl and Mitzeee and out into the street.

He put Steven down outside.

The boy was red faced and livid. He hit Brendan on the shoulder, "You bastard!" he shouted, "you utter, bastard! It's you, isn't it? You're the monster! Just like he said!"

Brendan was completely lost. He'd expected to be on his way to his place for some incredible sex right now, but Steven did not look anything like up for that. "What are you going on about?" he sneered.

"You!" Steven shouted, "I can't believe I trusted ye! I can't believe I thought you were nice!"

"You can trust me!" Brendan cried.

Steven glared. He was impossibly angry now, but Brendan saw something within him shift. "I don't feel well," he said, "I can't work tonight."

Brendan frowned. The boy was lying. He could tell. But he wasn't expecting him to work tonight. Maybe it was embarrassment. Maybe he just needed time.

"Fine," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Steven nodded stiffly and turned to leave. Brendan watched him go, sad and confused. What was going on in the boy's head? And how on Earth was he keeping it from Brendan? He had to find out. He'd have to visit his dreams again.

* * *

Ste had too many thoughts. He had barely got used to the idea of being accused of something he hadn't done, when Brendan had wondered in acting like Derren Brown. It had freaked him out and he'd come to the only conclusion that had been available to him.

"Are you there?" he asked the darkness. He could feel eyes on him, suspected he knew who it was, hoping he was right.

"I'm here," said Simon Walker, emerging from the shadows.

Ste watched him, still not at all sure what he was thinking was right. "Why do you hate him so much?" he asked, buying himself time more than anything.

"He's a vampire," said Walker, factually, emotionlessly.

"So are Mitzeee and Cheryl and a hundred others according to you," Ste pointed out, "why do you hate him?"

Walker looked down, and took time to answer. "He… killed my brother," he said, in a quiet, broken voice. Ste looked at him closely, still not at all certain he believed the man.

"Right," said Ste, steeling himself. "I'm not saying I believe you, right?"

"Right," said Walker, waiting patiently for what they both knew was coming.

"I know he's not normal though," Ste said. It was hard to admit that. It seemed to create a great ache in his chest.

"That's because he's a vampire, Ste," said Walker.

"I don't know about that, but…" Ste took a deep breath. This was the right thing to do. Brendan, however beautiful and appealing, was some kind of monster. There was a reason Ste kept finding these bodies, and he somehow knew it was something to do with Brendan. "I will watch him."

He felt Walker's relief all around him. "And report back to me?"

"Yeah," said Ste, nervously.

Walker gave him a smile, a gentle one this time. He held out a hand. "Ste Hay," he said, "Welcome to the right side."

**AN: Dun dun dun! Reviews will make us write faster!**


	10. Chapter 10

Brendan Brady could feel his temper flaring as he stood on top of the walkway looking down at the club below. DOA felt almost alive tonight, pulsating with beating hearts that pumped warm blood around the bodies of everyone who was alive and in attendance. Brendan had almost forgotten what it felt like to feel his heart beat in his chest. Sometimes he missed having a soul so much that the pain felt as though it was about to burn through his chest. Before he'd met Steven the desire to walk out into the sun had gotten bigger and bigger. It was after what had happened to Vinnie that caused him to act, made him make the decision to die.

It wasn't that Brendan Brady hated being a vampire; he quite enjoyed it in some ways. It was the fact he was now eternally damned, destined to go to hell. The very thought made him tired in a way in which he couldn't explain. Mitzeee and Cheryl seemed to enjoy their un-dead lives and followed Brendan wherever he decided to go. But sometimes he craved peace and a place where nobody knew who he was.

Cheryl's crossing over to the vampire life had been unavoidable, something he still wished he could have protected her from until this very day. The memory of that night still haunted him; he could still hear the screams ringing in his ears during the daylight hours. Mitzeee, however, had been on the brink of death when he'd turned her. He'd found her in an alley with several stab wounds, she'd apparently been victim to a jealous wife of a married man she'd been sleeping with. The smell of the blood had drawn Brendan to her and he couldn't help but oblige when she'd begged him for help. Mitzeee was almost born to be a vampire, unlike Cheryl who struggled with every aspect of it.

Brendan had been ready to leave it all behind until that morning when he'd met Steven. It was like something had changed in him ever since then, like something had suddenly switched itself on. A world that had seemed black and white was now alive with colour. It was all because of Steven. Steven the infuriating boy who wouldn't obey him, argued each time he tried to help him and tested the very limits of Brendan's patience. Normally if it was any other man Brendan would have been bored by now, considered them not worth the effort. But there was something about Steven that made him feel different, made him feel that he could perhaps be saved from the vampire within.

But all of that was ruined now; Steven thought he was a monster, just like everyone else. What chance did he have when his salvation believed he was a lost cause? Everything he'd done tonight had been for the boy, why couldn't he just see that?

"Cheryl said you'd be up here." said a soft female voice.

Brendan heard her heart beat before he saw her. Lynsey Nolan was stood near him on the balcony, looking concerned.

"She also said you'd had a bad night. Although Mitzeee put it slightly differently, she told me some young boy's running circles around you." she said softly.

"Mitzeee doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut." said Brendan darkly. Lynsey was one of the few humans he liked and trusted. He'd saved her a few years ago from being murdered by a serial killer and in return she'd promised to keep his secret. For some reason Brendan could not understand, she seemed to see good inside of him.

"Is it that boy I saw you with the other night? The young one?"

Brendan decided not to answer her and hungrily continued to look down into the crowd. Maybe all he needed to get Steven out of his system was a willing donor, a feed and a good fuck.

Lynsey seemed to suddenly be able to read his mind. "It's not a weakness to have feelings for someone, you know? You deserve happiness more than some humans do."

"I'm a monster Lynsey, monsters don't have feelings. I don't even have a working heart any more, which means I can't love either." His attention was caught by a young man dancing provocatively by the DJ.

Lynsey looked troubled for a moment. "I don't believe that and I don't think you do really. I wouldn't be alive today if that was true."

Brendan stepped forward, trying to look as menacing as possible. "No, you'd be one of us instead." How could Lynsey possibly understand? She was only a human. He swept past Lynsey without a word, making his way back down to the bar where Cheryl and Mitzeee were arguing loudly again.

"Get that mangy thing out of here!" said Mitzeee darkly. "It's putting off customers and I bet it has fleas."

"I own part of this bar, which means I get to decide who stays and who goes. If it wasn't for Brendan I would have slung you out into the gutter years ago, exactly where you belong."

Mitzeee scowled darkly at Cheryl. "That's rich, coming from the woman who would have her knickers round her ankles at every opportunity if her powers weren't useless. You couldn't make it as a human and you certainly can't make it as a vampire now either."

Brendan could feel heaviness in his head where the headache would have been if he were human. You'd think after decades working together Mitzeee and Cheryl would have run out of ways to insult each other.

"What's that thing doing in here?" asked Brendan, noticing the dog that was causing so much trouble.

Cheryl stuck out her bottom lip like a chastised child. "You and Mitzeee are allowed pets, why can't I have one?"

Mitzeee let out a snort. "Our pets are human and toilet trained, mostly. Yours is just a stray dog looking for scraps,' she paused with glee for a second. 'You're well suited if you think about it."

Brendan somehow thought that Steven wouldn't appreciate being referred to as a pet. He looked down at the same Collie dog from yesterday; there was just something about it that bothered him. There was an intelligence in its eyes that was almost human. There was something otherworldly about the dog and Brendan didn't exactly want it near his sister.

"Look." said Cheryl, her voice sickly sweet. She bent down and the dog enthusiastically licked her face. "Nate loves me already."

"Perhaps you should let her keep it." said Mitzeee, surprisingly coming to Cheryl's aid. "It's the first bit of action she's had in years. If she gets bored with it she can always eat it."

Cheryl put her hands over the dog's ears, as if she was worried about hurting its feelings. "Mitzeee!" she continued to kiss and make a fuss of the dog.

"She's finally lost it," muttered Mitzeee a disgusted look on her face as the dog's long tongue slid over Cheryl's lips. She said it so low that only Brendan could hear. "If she ever had 'it' in the first place."

* * *

Ste opened his eyes almost in disappointment that it was a new day and he had to go to work. He'd had a dream about Brendan again last night, but he'd been so mad at the man that he'd physically forced him from it with a baseball bat. A part of him still felt extremely uneasy about agreeing to spy for Walker too. When he got to the kitchen he noticed that Amy was sat at the table smiling to herself.

"You look happy." said Ste, popping some bread into the toaster.

"I had a really good dream." she said. "That boss of yours was in it. He brought loads of stuff for the kids."

Ste let out a snort. "Well that was nice of him."

"He is rather nice." said Amy, blushing a little. "Not many bosses get the people who work for them out of jail. I think you're in with a chance with him."

Ste dropped the cup he was holding, suddenly aware of his heart pounding in his ears. "What?" he asked almost defensively.

Amy rolled her eyes, as if the answer was obvious. "Well it's obvious he fancies you Ste, why else would he have been so concerned last night? And judging by how defensive you're being I reckon you fancy him too."

"No I don't!" protested Ste, the lie tasting almost bitter on his lips.

Amy gave him a smirk. "You so do!"

Ste threw a towel at Amy's head, hoping it would shut her up. "You don't know what he's like. There's something not right about him, last night he used some freaky mind control or something to get me out. People just do things for him, like they can't fight it."

Amy rolled her eyes. "I'm not surprised; if you hadn't noticed, he is gorgeous. I wouldn't say no to him in a hurry"

"You don't understand." said Ste, almost sulkily.

"I do Ste; you're doing what you always do when you're onto something good. You over think things and talk yourself out of it, but this time I don't think you should. Just give him a chance."

"I'll try." lied Ste, knowing there was no way in the world a man as God-like as Brendan Brady would look at him in a romantic way in a million years. Besides if Walker was right, then Brendan was a monster and Ste was determined not to be one of his victims.

"Daddy!" cried Leah's happy voice; she ran into the room and ploughed straight into him. She was wearing a cloak and long plastic teeth. 'I'm a vampire today!'

"Are you?" asked Ste, his voice weak. "Are you sure you don't want to be something else?"

Leah's faced twisted with a child like confusion. "Why would I want to be Daddy? Vampires are great."

"I thought they were bad." Ste said more to himself than Leah.

"No Daddy." said Leah, in a way an adult would talk to a child. "That's only in the stories. None of the monsters are bad; they're just lonely and need friends."

"Would you be their friend?" Ste asked his daughter.

"Of course Daddy." said Leah softly. "It's having a friend that makes the monsters good. I want my monsters to be good."

"Me too." answered Ste.

* * *

Ste placed another bottle of Special Brew in front of another customer who looked as if he was carved out of marble. There was no doubt in Ste's mind now that this club was full of vampires. He couldn't figure out how he hadn't worked it out before. The rooms upstairs were obviously where the creatures fed. He'd started to notice no end of people with puncture marks on their necks after he'd started looking.

"What's up kid?" asked Mitzeee from beside him. "You've had a face on you like a smacked arse ever since you walked in. Had a row with the boss?"

"Something like that." said Ste, eyeing up one of the crimson bottles of Special Brew.

"I think you should give him a break." said Mitzeee. "Brendan's a good man and he's been trying so hard with you. He's used to getting things too easily, you know, without any effort, but it's obviously different with you. He keeps getting it wrong because he doesn't know what he's doing."

"That ain' my fault." said Ste defensively. He thought of Walker's words. Mitzeee would say those things about Brendan. She was the same creature.

"No, but you could at least cut him some slack. The poor guy doesn't know whether he's coming or going with you. It doesn't help you jump down his throat every time he tries to help you."

"I don't." argued Ste, even though he partly knew she was right.

Mitzeee glanced up towards the platform where Brendan was staring down intently at the two of them. "I can't tell you how to think or feel. But if you want answers I suggest you go up there and get them."

Ste glanced up at the dark figure above the bar, both attractive and appalling. He didn't even know if deep down he was here on Walker's orders. "How do I know he won't hurt me?" he asked Mitzeee.

Mitzeee gave him a knowing smile. "If you believed he was capable of that then you wouldn't still be working here." she answered.

She wondered off to serve or flirt with a customer, leaving Ste to ponder her words. He considered Leah's words, which somehow felt wiser than everything else he'd heard since he started here. He had to know.

He secured his till and took off towards the steps that lead to the platform. As he climbed up towards the mysterious man he worked for he couldn't shift the sense of dread sitting in his stomach. A part of him wanted to turn around and run, never come back to this club. Brendan barely acknowledged him as he leaned in beside him looking at the crowds below.

"Thank you." said Ste, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. "For last night."

Brendan didn't reply and continued to stare down at the crowds.

"Ain't you going to say owt?" asked Ste.

Brendan finally turned round to look at him. "Is there any point Steven? You've already made up your mind about me." his blue eyes were practically burning a hole through the younger man.

"Are you a vampire?" asked Ste, the question hung in the air between them.

"Yes." said Brendan softly. He looked at Ste, as though challenging him to reject him.

"Do you drink from people's necks?" asked Ste, refusing to think too deeply about what Brendan had just told him. He felt a strange jealousy at the thought of Brendan drinking from beautiful people.

"Only if they're willing." answered Brendan. "Most of the people in here are more than willing, you will find. I understand that the experience can be quite pleasurable."

Ste was quiet for a moment, absorbing the new information. "Was that Macca who was murdered willing?"

"Yes. He was a little too willing. Sometimes people get addicted to the buzz of being fed from. They become obsessed with the vampire and the thrill of being hunted. I tried to make Macca forget about vampires for his own protection, but he somehow broke through." Brendan looked at Ste's wide-eyed expression. "I didn't kill him if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't thinking that!" said Ste, wondering why he didn't. Brendan had every reason to kill Macca if he was ending a clingy relationship and Macca wouldn't let go. Yet Ste instinctively knew Brendan was speaking the truth. "What is the weird mind control thing you do? It proper freaked me out yesterday."

Brendan observed him curiously, obviously accepting the fact he wasn't going to run away any time soon like last night. "Most vampires can bend others to their will, bar the few exceptions. It helps us to stay undercover and live alongside humans without too much suspicion."

"Am I an exception?" asked Ste.

"Yes." said Brendan, breathlessly, almost admiringly. "I can't bend you to my will."

"Probably because my head is empty, innit?" Ste let out a nervous laugh.

Brendan frowned, "No," he stated, without hesitation, "it's because you're special, Steven."

Ste blushed under Brendan's intense gaze, he felt almost naked underneath it. "So... Mitzeee and Cheryl are vampires too?" he asked, quickly wanting to change the subject.

"Yes, they're my... children, in a way. I turned them both." answered Brendan.

"You didn't think that through, did you?" the words were out of Ste's mouth before he could stop them.

Brendan answered him with a ghost of a smile.

"Are you a good or a bad vampire?" Ste finally asked.

Brendan let out a chuckle. "Is there such a thing as a good vampire Steven?"

"You tell me." said Ste. He oddly felt better now the truth was out in the open. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. After finding three bodies it seemed he was getting to a point where he was hard to shock. "Our Leah reckons monsters can be good."

"Smart kid." said Brendan, but his voice was sad. "But I don't think I'm capable of being good any more."

Ste chewed his lip thoughtfully. "You were good the other night after I found that body. You're not the one killing those people are you?"

"No Steven. I don't kill innocents."

"Well then maybe you are a good vampire then." argued Ste.

"I don't have a soul; I'm not capable of good.'" Brendan reached out and grabbed Ste's hand, placing it on his chest. "Do you feel that? There isn't a heartbeat."

Ste bit his lip, his skin felt on fire at Brendan's touch. His hand rested where Brendan's heart should be, settled on his hard muscled chest. Brendan was right; the chest was completely still and silent. Ste felt and listened for a long moment. "I don't care." he said suddenly.

The two looked into each others eyes, drawn together like two magnets. A kind of gravity was tugging them closer and closer to one another. Ste let out a gasp as Brendan's cold lips met his own; the coolness was immediately replaced by fire. Brendan's arms slipped around him, in a gentle but steel like grip. The kiss was even better than anything Ste could have imagined, even better than the dreams he'd been having. Ste was being lightly pushed into the railings as Brendan continued to attack his mouth and push their bodies even closer together. They drew apart gasping a moment later, even though Ste wondered unconsciously why Brendan needed to gasp. Ste could almost have sworn he'd felt Brendan's heart beat twice, before becoming silent once more. But he knew he must be imagining things, right?

For the first time in days, as he looked into those deep blue eyes, Ste felt content. He knew what Brendan was and strangely he was okay with it. Although it might have helped that Ste had just received the best kiss of his life. He wondered if Brendan was naturally gifted in that department or was it him being a vampire that made it so good. He wondered how old Brendan was. It might be a hundred years of practice. It didn't matter really; all that mattered was that Ste really wanted the man in front of him.

A movement to the right suddenly caught Ste's eye and made him turn his head away from Brendan. Standing near the entrance to the platform was Simon Walker. His blue eyes were flashing dangerously with anger and insanity. He shot Ste a look before turning and disappearing back down the stairs. The look had said everything Ste needed to know, Simon Walker was going to kill Brendan, and now he would kill Ste, too.


	11. Chapter 11

**We must once again thank our wonderful reviewers. We are very amused some of you wish to track us down and lock us up! We will try to keep the updates coming so this does not need to happen. But we enjoy your speculation both on here and twitter, we greatly appreciate it. There is now a small group of you who know who we are and we thank you lovely guys for keeping our secret :)**

Ste watched Walker leave with dread. His hand was still resting on Brendan's chest and Brendan was still holding him in that delicious clinch against the railing.

"What?" said Brendan.

Ste stared at him. What would Brendan do if he knew there was a vampire slayer after him? Ste suspected it wouldn't be all sunshine and flowers. If they confronted each other, it could very well end in one of their deaths. Ste didn't want Brendan hurt but he didn't want to watch him hurt other people either.

"Er… I need to go," he said instead. "I've forgotten … something."

Brendan searched his eyes, confused. "What have you forgotten?"

"Er… nothing important," Ste mumbled, "I'll be right back!"

He extricated himself from Brendan's arms and Brendan let him. If he weren't so worried about Walker, Ste might have noticed how upset the vampire looked; but right now he had pressing things on his mind. He half ran to the stairs and down to the floor of the club. He glanced around, but could see no sign of Walker, so he kept on going. Out of the club and into the darkness.

He'd found Walker before, so ran to that same alley now. It was far from welcoming.

"Walker?" he called at the night around him. "Walker!"

Nothing replied. The night was still. He could hear the club a few streets way and cars in the distance, but there didn't seem to be any signs of life elsewhere.

"Well, if you ain't even gonna listen to me you can do one!" Ste shouted angrily. He knew Walker was close by, brooding or sulking. He would hear even I'd he was being too childish to answer.

Still he was answered by silence. He let out a noise of disgust.

"Brendan didn't do it!" He shouted. "He's innocent, he told me!" He looked around, peering into shadows for a shape he recognised, for a sign of movement but he saw neither.

"Fine!" He shouted, "I'm going! You do what you want!"

He folded his arms and stamped his way out of the alley and back to the club.

He never got around the corner.

The body crashed into him faster than he could have thought possible. It had pressed him against a wall before he could blink.

It pressed him so hard he could barely draw breath.

"If you're not with me, Ste, then you're against me!"

The harsh voice snarled in his ear. A strong hand took a grip on his throat. Bright eyes alive with misery burned into him.

"Wait…" he gasped.

The hand tightened. Ste struggled. He pulled at the hand, kicked at whatever parts he could find. Walker's anger was giving him strength and as Ste tried to stamp on his foot, Walker barely grunted and held even tighter. Ste felt himself begin to run out of air. His struggles weakened, even as he grew more desperate.

And suddenly his was free. He dropped to his knees, coughing and gasping; fingers at his own neck, trying to fight off the phantom hand he still felt at his throat.

"Think you're a big strong man, do ye?!" he heard in an almost playful voice, "attacking a young lad when his guard is down?"

"Bren..." Ste gasped.

"Let's see how you deal with a proper monster, eh?"

"Brendan!" Ste cried, "Stop!"

Brendan hesitated and when he spoke again his voice was strained. "He had a hand around your throat, Steven!"

"He's confused!" Ste tried to explain, "He's not going to hurt me, not really."

"He tried to kill you!" Brendan hissed, "He doesn't deserve to live!"

"But I don't want you to kill him!" Ste shouted. He couldn't let Brendan become a killer. Then he remembered, Brendan was probably already a killer.

But Brendan had heard his words. He loosened his grip on Walkers throat enough to shove the man to his knees in front of Steven.

"Apologise!" Brendan ordered.

Walker sneered and forced a breathy laugh, which didn't surprise Ste. No one had ever really apologised to him before, but he wasn't sure it counted when it was forced.

"I'm not apologising to the whore of a vampire."

Ste frowned, pretty certain that one kiss didn't make him a whore. Brendan, however, grasped Walker's hair, pulled his head back, increasing his grip on the man's throat and stamped on his leg, making the man grunt at the pain and struggle to breath.

"Look what you did! Now you have to apologise twice!"

Walker grunted in pain, but eventually shouted "I'm sorry!"

"Twice!" hissed Brendan.

"Sorry!" Walker hissed back.

Ste nodded awkwardly and Brendan let go of the slayer, who immediately made to roll away. Unsurprisingly, Brendan was faster and clamped a hand down on his shoulder, keeping him on his knees.

"Good, now we're all 'friends' again," Brendan sneered, "you can start by telling me who the fuck you are."

Walker's mouth snapped shut. He did little but glare at Brendan, angrily.

"But you had so much to say for yourself before!" sneered Brendan, "do I have to persuade you to start again?" he leant over and breathed into Simon's ear. "What if I ask really nicely?"

Ste had had enough. He wanted to watch Brendan torture someone even less than he wanted to see him kill. "His name's Simon Walker and he's a vampire slayer."

Brendan showed no fear or dread at the words, though Ste was pretty sure they were the same as those Walker had used. Nor did he resort to violence. Instead he sneered. "A vampire slayer?"

Ste glanced nervously at Walker's face that seemed to grow angrier as Brendan spoke.

"That's what he told me..." Ste muttered.

"What, has he told you that's some sort of legendary title? Passed from father to son, mother to daughter with grand reverence and the ceremonial drinking of yak piss?" Brendan scoffed, like the idea was somehow more ridiculous than there being real live vampires wondering the streets. "There's no such thing as a vampire slayer. He's just some nutter with a fetish or a chip on his shoulder."

And with those words, Brendan shoved Walker forward as though he meant less than nothing to him. Walker grunted as he hit the floor and scrambled round to face the vampire, face like a snarling wildcat.

"I can still kill you!" he shouted and lunged at Brendan, who side stepped easily and shoved him back against the wall.

"You know," the vampire said conversationally, "if you try to kill either of us again, I will have to tear you apart."

"It'll be worth the risk!" shouted Walker and Ste ran forward before Brendan could do the worst.

"Stop!" he shouted, grabbing Brendan's arm, trying to pull him bodily away from Walker. Brendan was too strong, he barely moved away but he did listen, so Ste tried to explain. "He thinks you killed his brother."

Brendan glanced at Ste, then turned a colder gaze back on Walker.

"Is that what you told him?" he growled. "I don't know anyone called Walker. Who's your brother?"

"His name was Cam!" snarled Walker.

Brendan thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Never heard of him," he said, and Ste felt that though it was insensitive, it wasn't a lie.

That thoughtlessness enraged Walker. He let out a wordless cry and fought Brendan once more. The attack lasted less than five seconds before he slumped back in misery. Every angle in his body showed submission, head bowed and shoulders drooped. Ste knew it was forced - a way to survive until he could try again.

"I never killed your brother," said Brendan, "but if I see you around here again, you might not be so lucky."

He manhandled Walker towards the entrance of the alley, then shoved him away just enough to make the man stumble.

"Get gone!" Brendan snapped and Walker glared at them once more before he obeyed at a jog; leaving Ste and Brendan alone.

Brendan watched the spot Walker had disappeared. Maybe he was worried about the man returning.

"So, why did you interrupt us to go find him?"

Brendan's words were cold, almost nasty. They sent a chill through Ste.

"I didn't…" he tried, but Brendan interrupted.

"What, you expect me to believe 'you forgot something'?" Brendan jeered, "Don't lie to me, Steven."

"I…" Ste started, feeling lost. "He …"

What should he say? Should he deny it? Claim he'd never seen the man before? No, he didn't want to lie to Brendan, not really.

Brendan turned towards him, and leant against a wall, giving Ste an expectant look. Then he folded his arms. He was closing off, shutting Ste out. Ste couldn't handle that.

"He stopped me on me way home, said he was a vampire slayer and he was after you."

Brendan put his head on one side, "And you forgot to mention this because…?"

"Well, I didn't believe 'im, did I?" Ste snapped, angry at himself for letting this happen and for ever agreeing to spy for Walker. "I just thought he was mental! Because I'm not the only one who didn't mention everything, am I Brendan?"

Brendan snorted, "You knew what I was before tonight!"

"No…"

"All that stuff at the police station."

"You freaked me out! I didn't know what to think then!"

"So what did he want from you Steven?"

Ste hesitated. He could still lie. He'd told Walker where to go every other time.

"He wanted me to spy on you," Ste mumbled, ashamed.

Brendan's eye contact grew harsh and cold. "And what did you tell him?" He asked, without emotion.

Ste had the lie on his lips, ready to tell it, to save whatever this was between them. But somehow he couldn't get it out.

After a moment Brendan turned and walked away.

* * *

DI Trent was going over this case. Three deaths, numerous disappearances and in a village as small as Hollyoaks they already had good reason to link them. It was how little time between the murders that worried Trent the most. Some sort of serial killer was terrorising the village.

Except this one had broken the normal serial killer pattern of grannies or young women. This one was targeting young men.

The doctor was the oldest so far. A man in his thirties. But there seemed to be more than one modus operandi at work. The doctor and Will Savage had both been mutilated. Their bodies were torn apart and the blood somehow drained of blood. They still hadn't really figured out how that had been done. The other MO's were different. Some of them were just missing persons: young men in their twenties, often of similar slim build. And now Macca. A completely different death, except not really. He matched the young, slim type of the missing persons and his blood had been drained (like the deaths). He suggested the link more than any of the others.

Steven Hay had almost looked like a link. He'd found the three bodies (at least part of them) which was suspicious. What were the chances of that happening if he wasn't involved somehow?

But he couldn't be. He had a water tight alibi.

Trent sat up in his chair. What had Ste Hay's water tight alibi actually been again? He couldn't actually remember.

"Hey," he called to his colleague, Mary, as she grabbed her coat on her way out, "What was Ste Hay's alibi again?"

"I don't know!" she snapped, "you conducted the interview!"

Trent tried to remember. He couldn't even remember the interview. He remembered the lad's face, looking young and worried but after that...

"Who else was there, Mary?" he asked, frowning. He wasn't going to admit his lack of memory, but he could forget which junior colleague had accompanied him; they would probably just think he was being a dick.

"No one," said Mary, voice hostile as she was now halfway out the door, "you didn't even have his brief yet. You were so cocky that you could get him to confess. That worked well, didn't it?"

Trent frowned. He had been cocky, but he'd have brought in someone else to check the alibi and why didn't he at least wait for the lawyer before he let him go?

"Mary?" he called as she started off down the corridor. He heard her sigh before she came back. "Where is the paper work from Hay's arrest?"

Mary let out a noise not dissimilar to a child stropping. She walked to a filing cabinet, fished out a file and dropped it onto Trent's desk.

He didn't thank her. He grabbed it and found the right papers.

"This isn't even finished!" he cried. Mary rolled her eyes and walked off and he understood why. He'd wanted full credit for catching the killer, so he'd taken full responsibility for the arrest and questioning. He had no one to blame but himself. But this was not like him.

There was something wrong here. Something had happened. Mary escaped and he didn't care. He rubbed his eyes.

"Think, Trent!" he muttered to himself. What had happened that had distracted him from all this? Why couldn't he remember why he'd let Hay go? Why couldn't he even remember the alibi?

Then he saw him. Dark eyes, dark hair, pale skin. He'd strolled into the interview room and Trent had no idea who he was. And why hadn't he remembered something so important?

This was important though. This was the break in the case, Trent was sure of it. Hay had something to do with it. Why else was someone doing a Derren Brown, making him forget important things like that?

He was going to arrest Hay and this time he wasn't going to let anyone else mess with it. He'd have to send himself reminders just in case they tried it again. He couldn't see it working twice, but he didn't know how it worked.

He got his phone out, set himself a reminder twice a day for the foreseeable future; until he cancelled it himself when he got the scally sent down and whoever this weirdo was too for obstructing the course of justice.

Then he went to arrest Steven Hay.

He knew where the bastard lived, it was the place Savage's head had been found. He knew there were kids there too, but that couldn't be helped. Hay had bought the kids into this when he'd dumped a human head in his own bin.

It was dark now. Maybe once Hay was in prison where he belonged, he could go back to normal hours. See the sunshine every now and again. Maybe he could finally ask that girl out. Dark haired, beautiful and spectacularly mouthy Sinead.

He pulled his jacket around him. It was cold tonight. And somehow darker than usual. He looked up. One of the street lights had gone out, that was all. He picked up his pace.

"D. I. Trent?" said a voice beside him.

He jumped a mile. He was certain there hadn't been a soul there a moment before. He put his hand on his chest.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, willing his heart and breathing to go down again.

"Not exactly," said the voice, with a playful edge this time.

"Er, can I help you?" Trent asked, keen to get on.

"Well it would be nice if you could, but I don't think you will."

With that cryptic reply a shadow stepped out of the darkness.

"Well?" prompted Trent, "what do you want?"

The shadow took a moment to answer. "Now, that's a complicated question. It has many facets, some of them deeper than you could ever understand."

Trent rolled his eyes, "I meant from me!" he snapped. "I've got somewhere to be."

"Not any more, I'm afraid," said the shadow.

Trent had heard threats before. He knew how to deal with them.

He folded his arms. "Are you threatening an officer of the law?" he asked in his best policeman voice.

The shadow put its head on one side, observing him with amusement. "No," he said.

"Good," said Trent slightly confused by how the word (which should have been stepping back from a confrontation) clashed with the assertive tone it was spoken in.

"It was a statement of fact," said the shadow, and he stepped forward. The light fell on a pale face. A face that Trent recognised.

Trent's jaw dropped. "You're… you're alive?"

The man smiled. "Not exactly," he said.

Trent didn't have long to wonder about those words. He was dead before he could understand them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Remember we consume your reviews like cookies and they give us mind fuel. Enjoy the next chapter.**

Ste kissed both Leah and then Lucas on the head before standing by the door watching the two of them sleep. It was a relief the two of them were tucked into bed safely, especially with a murderer on the loose. The last few days had been an eye opener and as much as he hated to admit it a part of him was relieved he'd escaped it all. Ste had thought he'd seen most of the good and bad of what life had to offer, but how wrong he'd been. Vampires were real and they weren't monsters. If Brendan Brady was anything to go by they were also sexy beings with god-like bodies. Ste shook his head, trying to get rid of any thoughts of Brendan.

After the argument with Brendan two nights ago Ste had been upset, but after a few minutes his feelings had turned to anger. He'd gone home and slammed about for a bit, then come to the conclusion he was better off without Brendan in his life. He didn't go to work the next day and fought off many curious questions from Amy. He was now on day two of avoiding going to work, deciding to instead dress in a grubby tracksuit and sulk around the flat.

"Ste." said Amy's voice the minute he stepped into the kitchen. "Why haven't you gone to work again?"

Ste shrugged and began to fill the kettle with water. "I don't feel like it." he said sulkily.

"Don't feel like it?" she asked angrily. "What are we meant to live off? Because as far as I'm aware you're not in possession of any magic beans."

"We'll manage." said Ste. He was not going to swallow his pride of apologise to Brendan. Yes he'd betrayed him, but Brendan had kept the fact he was a vampire from him.

"Ste, that job was good money. I thought you liked it, is it because of that Brendan?" she tried her best to look sympathetic.

"No." said Ste "It's because of...Bloody hell!" he dropped the cup he was holding as he noticed Cheryl Brady staring in at him from the outside of the kitchen window.

Cheryl's skin glowed in the pale moon light and her eyes glinted. She pointed at the front door, making it obvious that she wanted Ste to let her in. Ste practically ran past a confused Amy and pulled open the door.

"You need to invite me in love." said Cheryl, smiling brightly at him. She was wearing a zebra print suit and high heels that looked way too tall for her.

"Come in." said Ste awkwardly, glancing down at the dog Cheryl pulled inside with her. The dog's bright pink collar seemed to be encrusted with diamonds and there was a tacky bow behind its ear.

Amy glanced up from the magazine she was reading and paled when she noticed Cheryl. "Hi ya!" she said awkwardly, looking at the mess of toys on the floor that the kids had left out. "Ste didn't mention you were coming round, I'd have got in some biscuits or something." she jumped up and began to clear the cluttered floor frantically.

"Don't worry love, I won't be here long. I was wondering whether I could have a word with Ste."

"Of course!" said Amy, "I'll be in my room." she shot Ste a questionable look on the way out and closed her bedroom door softly behind her.

"She's cute." said Cheryl kindly.

Ste shrugged, trying to ignore how Cheryl had made the word cute sound like another way of saying delicious. "I'm not going back." he blurted out.

"Please." said Cheryl almost in a whine. "Brendan's been unbearable the last few days; I'm contemplating staking myself if he gets any worse. You've got to help us Ste."

"He doesn't want me there." said Ste childishly.

"Yes he does!" argued Cheryl "But he's just too stubborn to say it. Is it about money? I have money, how about I give you a thousand? Would that change your mind?"

"No." said Ste, swallowing hard. A thousand pounds did sound very tempting.

"He told me about Walker. I understand why you did it love, I've been saying to him from the start that we needed to be honest with you. Usually our staff are a bit... quicker on the uptake, I mean they usually know when they apply, but it's not your fault you didn't guess." Cheryl bit her lip, trying to give him her best puppy dog eyes.

Ste crossed his arms. "I can't work at your club, I have me kids to think about. Your line of work is too dangerous. If anything happened to me then they wouldn't have a Dad any more. It's not fair on them or Amy."

He didn't mention the other reason; that he could see himself falling hard for her brooding older brother and that just wasn't an option. Brendan wouldn't want someone like him for long and after he was done with him he'd have nothing left, not even a job. Ste had to protect himself and his family; it was the right thing to do. Plus he was pretty sure he'd blown any chance he had with Brendan, so what was the point of worrying about any of it anyway?

"I didn't want to do this. But you've left me no choice." said Cheryl, she opened her bag and pulled out a pile of papers. "In my hand is a life insurance policy, if anything happens to you it pays Amy over one million pounds."

"Why would I need that for?" asked Ste boldly. "I'm not planning to go near any more vampires any time soon." He hoped Cheryl couldn't tell he was lying. Ste knew deep down he couldn't keep away from the pull of Brendan for too long.

Cheryl looked at him, seemingly trying to figure out whether to tell him something important. "Ste, do you think you finding those bodies was an accident?"

Ste shrugged. "I don't know."

Cheryl looked down at her Collie dog and patted him lovingly on the head. "Mitzeee and I think that the person killing all those people may be targeting you. It might be something to do with Brendan, he has a lot of enemies; nobody lives as long as we do without making a few, but it might not. Now you can walk away from DOA right now and hope that we're wrong. But if we're right you don't have any protection. Brendan can protect you babe. Give him another chance and let him protect you. If not for me, then for your kids and Amy."

A number of conflicting emotions passed across Ste's face. In the end he realised he had to swallow his pride for everyone's sake. He needed his kids to be safe, no matter what had gone on between Brendan and him.

"Okay." he agreed finally.

Cheryl let out an excited squeal and flung her arms around Ste's neck. "Thank goodness for that. Things haven't half been dull without you around!

* * *

Mitzeee ended the call on her phone wearing a smile like a cat that had just got the cream. Humans were so easy to control and manipulate, and whatever ability he may have to resist the mind control. Ste Hay was no exception to this. She knew that if Cheryl told him the story the two women had made up between them, the boy would soon crumble to their will. The boy was special in some ways, but in others boringly predictable. It was obviously his main priority was his kids, so why not play on that in a little game of matchmaking? Cheryl had played that card surprisingly well and shockingly hadn't screwed it up for once, now the only person left to convince was Brendan.

Mitzeee climbed the steps that led to Brendan's platform with a renewed sense of purpose. Her maker had been in a vile mood for the last few days, which was getting worse with every hour that Ste Hay decided not to show up. She'd never seen her maker so wound up about any boy before, she loved it. Watching Brendan Brady loosing his head over a boring human was much more exciting than watching Eastenders! The sexual tension between the two men was delicious and Mitzeee would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy watching the two. If only that Simon Walker idiot hadn't screwed it all up.

"What are you doing here Anne?" asked Brendan, as she slid in next to him. "I told you I want to be alone."

Mitzeee pulled a face at her old human name. "I came up here to talk to you about Ste."

"Not interested." said Brendan, turning back to look at the crowds.

"Well actually that's the thing." said Mitzeee, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "I wanted to know if I could perhaps have a crack at him, seen as the two of you aren't talking any more."

Brendan's face darkened. "I don't think you're his type."

"'I'm every man's type." said Mitzeee boldly. "but that face tells me you're not as done with him as you say you are. You must be worried about the poor lad like I am; he's practically a danger magnet. So far he's found all those bodies and attracted that Simon Walker nutter. Aren't you worried he could be in danger?"

"I'm the only one who's a danger to him." said Brendan coldly, he was gripping the railings so tightly that they were started to dent with the pressure. "He betrayed me, why should I be worried about him?"

Mitzeee grinned, knowing Brendan's defensive tone was all an act. She was starting to get somewhere with him now. "Brendan you're not the scariest monster in the closet. There are other things out there that could take much more of an unhealthy interest in young Ste. Things that wouldn't think twice before pulling his pretty little head from that neck of his."

She'd never been able to read Brendan's mood, but right now she could see the emotions fly over his face. They made her grin even wider. "What do you want me to do about it Anne?" asked Brendan harshly.

"We need to offer Ste protection, the only way we can do that is having him continue to work here." she said in a sugary sweet tone.

Brendan gave him the sour look he used when he knew she was trying to get her own way, and decided she wasn't to get it, "That's out of the question."

"Well..." Mitzeee purred, letting her tongue caress her fangs as though she were thinking about a particularly succulent morsel. "You've left me no choice then. I'll take him for my own later tonight; he'll look gorgeous chained up in my bedroom like a Christmas decoration. It'll be like coming home to a present every night and at least then he'll be safe."

She turned counting back from ten slowly as she started to walk back towards the stairs.

"Anne."

She slowly turned back, trying to rearrange her smug smile into a much more neutral expression. "Yes Brendan?" she said sweetly.

"He can have his job back." said Brendan.

"I'm glad you said that, he'll be here with Cheryl in about five minutes." she grinned, noticing his furious expression. "I expect your mood to improve now he's coming back, you've been a miserable sod since that argument the two of you had. Give the lad a break; he's just discovered you're a vampire, it's no wonder he's confused."

She paused again just before reaching the steps. "Do us all a favour and stop pretending. It's obvious you want the boy, just get it over and done with. You're full of this sexual frustration."

Mitzeee turned and finally went back to the bar this time. Brendan and Ste just made it too easy for her! Soon it would be time to start phase two of operation match-maker. But first she was going to enjoy watching Ste run circles round her ill-tempered maker.

* * *

Brendan knew Mitzeee was messing with him. There was no way she was going to get Steven chained to the wall of her bedroom. Steven was never going to be interested and she couldn't control Steven's mind any more than Brendan could. And anyway, her taste in men had never included skinny fair haired ones.

But she still wasn't having him, whatever she said.

And Brendan was not going to get distracted by the thought of Steven chained to a wall. Well, obviously who wouldn't want to imagine a pretty young man like Steven chained to a wall and keening with need? But that pretty young man didn't have to be Steven. He'd like to imagine anyone of a similar shape and look in the same position. Probably. He just couldn't think of anyone else right now.

He might not want the boy to be hurt or to have to sleep with Mitzeee, but that didn't mean he cared about him anymore. Steven had betrayed him, not the other way round. Brendan was dangerous and Steven was a liar. They needed to stay away from each other. Completely.

And certainly neither should chain the other to a wall.

The night was building up. It had been dark for a while and vampires and mortals alike were streaming into the club, finding willing bodies to dance with and to play with. He could smell Steven. He would step inside any moment, accompanied by Cheryl and ready for his shift. Brendan needed something to do.

He spotted a likely target. He was feeling peckish anyway and there was a slim lad at the edge of the dance floor. He had mousy hair and was clearly slightly younger than Steven. Brendan didn't really like "young" as a quality. Over the centuries he'd started to find too much youth tiresome. If he was feeling generous he would have accepted that Steven was, in some ways, almost irresistible in the way he looked so young and yet clearly his children and his hardships had bred in him a maturity that was admirable. But Brendan was not feeling generous. It would probably wound Steven more to think he was being passed over for a younger model.

He glided to his new target silently. The thrill of shock that appearing unannounced elicited in a human was also losing its appeal, but he seemed to have got into the habit of the move. His target reacted exactly as a thousand targets had reacted before - a sudden tightening of the muscles and tendon, a sharp intake of breath, a perceptible change in heart beat and a small release of pheromones. Brendan wasn't sure if he liked the smell of this one, but he decided he didn't care. A much more enticing and familiar scent had just entered the room and Brendan needed to make a point.

He gave the boy a dark smirk that demanded attention and greeted "What's a boy like you, doing in a place like this?"

He knew that it wasn't what you said so much as how you said it. He'd said it brilliantly, with just the right tone of darkly promising. The boy's mouth dropped open, loose and flummoxed. "Angghh," he managed. Then he flushed, charmingly and said in a strained voice, "I'm waiting for someone."

Brendan couldn't help but grin. This was too easy. He could feel Steven's eyes upon him, burning into the back of his neck. He could smell the anger and jealousy and confusion from the barman. This was one of the best plans he'd ever had. "Well," he said to this boy in front of him, "I think you've found someone better."

He put a hand out towards the boy, who looked at him as though he were the most tempting thing he'd ever seen. He heard Cheryl instruct Steven to start on some job or other, but it barely mattered; he'd made his point. There was no way his sister and stalker could outwit Brendan Brady. They may think they'd won by playing their sneaky game of matchmaking, but he was showing them he couldn't be played with. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. And right now he was going to fuck this scruffy Scottish lad in a leather coat. Because he could.

The boy put his hand in Brendan's.

"Er, what do you think you're doing?!"

It was that blond barmaid. Theresa. Pretty, human and thick as a plank.

"What does it look like, Theresa?" he said, silkily, noticing a slight hesitation in the hand in his.

"Er, it looks like you're trying to sleep with my boyfriend!"

Brendan felt his lip curl. There was something incredibly off putting about that information. He wasn't feeling particularly guilty about nearly succeeding in getting between them. It was just the thought of someone going near Theresa McQueen was enough to put any self-respecting man off.

"Ew," he said, and dropped the boy's hand as though it were covered in slime. He wiped his own on the boys jacket and pushed back to the bar, skirting Mitzeee who was looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Are you pleased with yourself?" she said, clattering after him.

"Not particularly," he said, "he didn't look that desperate from over here."

"Hey! Theresa McQueen is beautiful and you know it! There's nothing desperate about Joel!" Mitzeee prodded him with a perfectly manicured index finger, "You're growing a conscience!"

"No I'm not!" he protested.

"Yeah, you think that. In the meantime, you've sent one of our bar staff flapping and we need you to fix one of the pumps."

"Get a man in!" Brendan replied. He was not a DIY kind of vampire.

"I don't know if you've noticed this, Brendan, but humans seem to think working is something you do during the day. So, unless you know a friendly vampire plumber, it's going to have to be you!"

Brendan let out a disgusted noise. "Whatever," he said, "where is it?"

"Cellar," said Mitzeee, "I'll show ya."

Brendan grumbled but followed. It was his club, after all, they couldn't go looking unprofessional.

Mitzeee opened the door to the cellar and stepped just inside. "At the back," she said, "but if you think I'm risking these shoes on that floor you've got another thing coming!"

Brendan rolled his eyes, "This suit is Armani and you've got me fixing pipes! I think your New Look shoes can handle it."

"Hey!" snapped Mitzeee, "Watch it! I do not shop at New Look! Now get in there!"

Brendan smirked. He'd always known how to get at Mitzeee and he did enjoy seeing her getting annoyed. He strolled past her casually, aiming for the pipes at the back. "So what's wrong with it?" he asked.

The door clicked shut. He turned with a frown on his face. "Mitzeee?" he said.

"Is this enough, Chez?" said a familiar voice in the corner, making the last few minutes click into place in Brendan's mind. He was going to kill Cheryl and Mitzeee.

He turned and frowned at the pile of boxes that emerged from a corner of the cellar. Brendan didn't need to look behind the boxes to know who it was. He tried the handle, but knew what he was going to find. The brats had locked them in. Annoyingly the door was vampire proof, which meant there was no way out.

"Chez?" Steven asked, nervously.

"She's not here, Steven," Brendan told him, feeling a slight sense of pleasure as the boy nearly jumped out of his skin and catching the boxes he dropped before they hit the floor with ease. He then shoved them back into the boy's arms and growled at the door, "Anne Minniver, you better open this door right now if you know what's good for you!"

"Yeah yeah," he heard Mitzeee call through the door, self-satisfied smirk obvious in her voice.

"We're not letting you out until you've made up!" he heard Cheryl cry, followed by a jangling of keys. Brendan groaned. The first time they worked together in a century and it was to annoy him.

"Yeah, don't overdo it!" he heard Mitzeee scold.

"I wasn't!" Cheryl protested and he heard two pairs of shoes clatter off back up the stairs.

"'Eyar, what you playing at?" Steven cried, having deposited his boxes somewhere.

"I've just been locked in a cellar, Steven, do I look like I'm 'playing'?"

"Is this supposed to scare me?!" Steven cried, his righteous anger failing to hide a hint of fear despite his words.

"What, you not scared Steven?" Brendan breathed, stepping closer, using his full height to fully intimidate the boy. They weren't coming out of here friends, but he could get the boy to behave. "Locked underground with the undead. So far down, no one would hear you scream."

He saw flicker of worry cross the boy's face, but it was drowned out. "What, proving me right are ya?" Steven snarled, "Showing me just how evil the big bad vampire can be!"

He actually snarled back, like a wild animal. The boy flinched back but instantly set his face into a mask of stubbornness.

"See?" Steven said, quietly. Then he pushed past Brendan, presumably to go for the door. But Brendan caught his wrist.

"I give you a job, I try to look after you and all you do is betray me!"

Steven blanched. Was it guilt? Brendan wasn't used to guilt. Usually the humans he dealt with were past such qualms and vampires were rarely troubled with the emotion. But Steven didn't give up. He wrenched his hand free. "You lied to me!" he hissed.

"I never lied!" Brendan cried.

"You never told me, did you?!"

"It's not my fault you took so long to figure it out!"

Steven's eyes opened wide. "Are you saying I'm slow?!"

Brendan only hesitated a moment. He had no intention of making up with the boy. Best cement the hate, make sure they both avoided each other.

"Yeah!" he said, "I am!"

Steven looked like he'd been smacked in the face, but he recovered quickly enough, "Well, at least I don't go around swaggering like I'm some sort of gangster!"

"What?" Brendan thought and said.

"Yeah, you with your expensive clothes and yer growly voice. You think you're proper it, don't ya?"

"This coming from a council-house chav?" Brendan retorted.

Steven ignored him, "And you do know the village people are thirty years out of date, don't ya? Who has a tash nowadays?"

No one was allowed to insult the tash! Brendan put all his considerable menace into the words, "When was the last time you ate, sticky?"

Steven's cheeks were starting to colour. He looked quite adorable. He spluttered briefly, then shouted, "Buy a shirt that fits!"

"Buy a shirt!" Brendan retorted, "and stop dressing like a reject from Jeremy Kyle then!"

"I've got shirts!" Steven cried, then stepped forward and prodded Brendan in the chest. "And at least I don't go round trying hypnotise people into bed!"

"That what you think, is it?" sneered Brendan, "Have you seen my face?" he shoved his face next to Steven's so the boy could get a good look at what he was missing, "I don't need to hypnotise no one!"

"Oh, so you just seduced a straight guy with, what, the power of your words?" Steven demanded. "I can't believe I thought I might actually like you!"

"Yeah, well the feeling's mutual!" snapped Brendan.

"Oh go to hell!" Steven shouted, giving Brendan the most adorable death glare. Brendan could help but try to kiss it off. He felt Steven's hands grasp his hair in tight fingers, pulling them closer together. The boy was ready to devour him right there and then. He grabbed Steven's arse and lifted him up before shoving him against the nearest wall.

But Steven, being Steven, changed the rules without telling him. Suddenly the hands weren't pulling them together. Suddenly they were punching him.

"Hey!" he cried, backing away in surprise rather than pain, "What did you do that for?"

"I tell you to go to hell and you kiss me?!" Steven cried, "what is the matter with you?"

"You kissed me back!" Brendan shouted.

"No I didn't!" Steven lied, but didn't wait for an answer. He went back to the door and screamed at it.

"Let me out of here! Let me out now! You can't keep me here! Let me out! Cheryl?! Cheryl, let me out!"

"Jesus, Ste!" Brendan heard Cheryl cry, "it's only been two minutes!"

"Let me out, right! I quit! I don't work 'ere anymore! I'm going home!"

Brendan folded his arms. He had no idea what was going on in the boys head and he was obviously far too much of a liability anyway. It was good riddance that he was quitting. Definitely. It would be better for all of them if they never saw each other again. But why did that feel like the worst thing that could possibly happen?

The door opened to reveal Cheryl's worried face. "Steven," Brendan heard his own voice beg, quietly, but the boy was deaf to his pleads. He stormed past Cheryl without a backwards glance.

Brendan sat heavily on a crate.

"What happened?!" Cheryl cried. "What did you do to him?"

"Oh, nothing, Chez, just… just give me a few minutes, yeah?"

The last thing he wanted was a lecture from Cheryl. Or sympathy. Neither sounded fun.

"Well, you best hope one of us can persuade him to come back!" Cheryl cried, "we'll never get another barman as sweet and hardworking as him!"

"Yeah, yeah," Brendan mumbled, once again pleased to hear the sound of her heels clattering away. He rubbed his face in his hands. The idea of never seeing Steven again had sucked all the energy from him. Just because he kind of hated him, didn't mean he didn't want him anymore.

Vampires weren't supposed to be tired and drained like this. They were supposed to get what they wanted and eat it. Being with Steven weakened Brendan. He almost felt human when he was near him. He missed stuff. Like, he hadn't noticed the sounds of the club, or that there really wasn't really a problem with the pump. Or the smell of blood. The special brew must have sprung a leak. He rubbed his face again. He needed to check it out – the special brew was their most valuable commodity. They couldn't waste it. And at least it would be a few minutes he wouldn't have to think about Steven.

He followed the smell to the far corner. It wasn't a good batch. They must have not stored it properly. It smelt like it was going off.

Then he realised it wasn't just blood he could smell. It was human.

Maybe he'd assumed it was Steven, but Steven smelt much better than this. And he suddenly realised what it was. There was a dead body in the cellar.

He swore. Someone must have drunk too much, then freaked out and hidden the evidence. Why did he have to bring Brendan into it? He narrowed it down to a spot behind some barrels, so he shoved them out of the way.

There it was, a young dead man, left haphazardly in a mess. His blood was congealing and his body cold. Brendan sighed. Was he familiar?

He moved the other barrel so he could get the man out. And froze. Words had been cut into the skin of the man's chest.

"Guess who's next?"

Brendan was out of the door before the barrel hit the ground.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Dear Lovely Readers, **

**As some of you may know, one of us came out recently. Electric Violinist is writing this author's note, and as I have just completed my mammoth House of Pomegranates project, I thought it was about time. My colleague, however, wishes to remain anonymous for now, so anyone who is enjoying the mystery can continue to guess away at her/his name.**

**As always reviews are appreciated and reviewers adored. We've had a lot of requests for sex, so my mysterious colleague took it upon his/herself to include some towards the end of this chapter. Hope you enjoy! **

He saw the boy storming down the main streets to his home. If Brendan could breathe, he would have sighed with relief. The boy had learnt his lesson, taking the long way round so he would stay on the main road and avoid being alone. It gave Brendan enough time.

He knew where the boy lived, and he could get there faster than any human, so that was where he went. Steven could be attacked on his way home, but Brendan could sense him, just one street to go. If he had a moment of fear, Brendan would smell it and be there in moments. But right now, he needed to make sure he could keep the boy in his sights all night.

He knocked politely on the door, all senses alert to Steven, turning onto his own street now. The door opened to reveal the pretty waif-like girl who had told him when Steven was arrested. She was the only thing in his way.

And he hated Amy.

She greeted him with a smile, "Oh, hello Brendan!" she said, "I've been meaning to see you to say thank…"

He was already rolling his eyes.

"Amy, you will invite me into your house, right now."

Amy's eyes swam with confusion for less than a moment, before they lightened as she submitted to the hypnosis.

"I invite you into my house," she said blankly.

"Good girl," said Brendan, stepping past her and into the living room. "Shut the door," he called over his shoulder as he inspected the house. Children's toys were tidied carefully away, the house shabby in slight disrepair, but clean and homely. He sat on the sofa, smelling Steven's scent and appreciating it, aware the boy was going to intrude in moments. And he was probably going to bitch about Brendan being here.

"Put the kettle on, love," he instructed Amy, feeling a great sense of superiority, as she obeyed with a contented expression. She may be pretty, but Brendan was powerful. He could send this little non-competition on endless, pointless errands until Steven was his.

Steven chose that moment to enter, bad mood and frustration still obvious from their previous interaction.

"Steven," Brendan greeted.

Steven hadn't looked at him. He had already started for a door on down the hall. "I don't wanna talk about it Amy," he said and stormed all the way through and slammed the door behind him. Brendan smirked, hearing the footsteps freeze and then the boy return to the living room.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Brendan had expected that as a greeting. He decided 'I found another dead body and a note that strongly hinted that you might be murdered' would be too alarming. So instead he said "Now that's a friendly greeting, isn't it?"

Steven folded his arms, "How did you even get past me?"

Brendan raised his eyebrows. There was a reason Steven hadn't figured out they were vampires.

"I'm a vampire, Steven," he said, hoping the boy would figure it out.

"Oh, right, yeah," said Steven, but rallied quickly, "So how did you get in then? I had to invite Cheryl or she couldn't come in!"

Amy wandered back into the living room, and in a breezy, emotion free voice, greet, "I have put the kettle on."

Her expression was blank. Brendan saw confusion followed by recognition fly across Steven's face.

"You hypnotised Amy!" he shouted.

"So?" said Brendan. As if that mattered.

"You can't hypnotise the mother of me kids just so you can break into my house!"

That was stupid, "Obviously I just did, Steven," Brendan pointed out.

Steven glared "What is wrong with you?" he shouted.

"What's going on?" said Amy. Steven must be very distracting for Brendan to have lost his control of her mind. Even more reason for Brendan to keep an eye on him; if these murders were to cumulate in a fight, Brendan could never hold concentration if the boy appeared unexpectedly.

"Brendan was just goin'" Steven informed her, mistakenly.

Brendan smiled, enjoying the game, "Where are your manners, Steven? Amy invited me in for a cup of tea."

"And why did she do that, Brendan?" Steven sneered.

"Oh, I was gonna thank you, Brendan!" Amy interrupted, "for helping Ste when he was arrested."

Now thoroughly enjoying himself, Brendan gave her a winning smile, "The least I could do for a valued employee."

"Oh, isn't that nice, Ste?" said Amy, with a smile, "tea was it?" she added.

"That'd be grand, love," said Brendan, smiling. He had no intention of drinking tea, but he knew to accept a drink when it was offered by a human. They liked it, made them think you were one of them. And he could do as good an impression of drinking as the next creature of the night.

"Er, you're not staying!" Steven cried, angrily.

"Don't be rude, Ste!" Amy protested.

"Yeah, Steven!" said Brendan.

"He gave you a job, then he helped you out, what is your problem?" Amy folded her arms, looking expectantly at Steven, who scowled at the pair of them, but didn't reply. So Amy nodded. "Good, so I'll make the tea then," she said with a cheery smile, and went back into the kitchen.

"What are you doing here, Brendan?!" Steven snapped the minute Amy was gone.

"I told…"

"Is your memory really that short? Because I think I told you I was done!"

Brendan looked at him seriously, "If I tell you the truth, you going to listen this time?"

It seemed to push through Steven's barriers just enough. The boy was still looking at him with slightly less trust than he'd give a sleeping alligator, but he wasn't snapping at him anymore. Brendan sighed. "Don't panic, but I found another body."

Steven's mouth dropped open. "What? Where?"

"In the cellar at the club, and… I don't wanna leave you alone, you know?"

He hoped the boy did understand without him having to say more.

Steven looked worried. Almost scared. "Do you…" he shifted, uncomfortably, and glanced in on Amy, "Cheryl said… she thought they might be targeting me." His eyes searched Brendan, questioningly, waiting for confirmation.

Brendan shrugged.

"Oh, helpful Brendan!" Steven cried, and Brendan could sense his anger growing, though he suspected it was fuelled by fear. "There's no reason for anyone to target me, is there? If it's vampires, they're after you, if they're not, they're after you!"

Brendan grumbled. The boy may have a point.

"So, this is your fault, isn't it?!" Steven cried. "So get out of my flat, Brendan!"

"No," said Brendan.

Steven glared harder, "I said get out!"

"I'm not leaving you alone!" Brendan stated, simply.

Steven looked ready to explode. Amy appeared in the kitchen doorway, carrying a tray with a teapot and a selection of mugs.

"Tea's up," she said with a smile.

"Brendan's going!" Steven repeated, growing more and more annoyed as he was ignored.

"But he hasn't had his tea!" said Amy.

"He's not getting tea!" Steven shouted. "He doesn't even drink tea!"

"Why not?" asked Amy.

"Amy just… just go to bed, yeah?"

"Don't you dare try ordering me around, Ste Hay!" Amy snapped, her smiley persona replaced with an almost maternal tone in moments.

"I'm not!" Steven replied, "Just, Brendan can't stay here!"

"Why would he stay here?" Amy asked, with a frown.

"I wanna keep an eye on him, Amy," said Brendan, "after everything that's happened, you know?"

He used the most minimal hypnosis he could, trying to control Amy without Steven noticing. He felt her mind bend to his will, just enough.

"That is very nice of you Brendan," she said, except Brendan could recognise the slightly robotic tone, and knew Steven would too.

"Stop hypnotising the mother of mi kids!" he shouted, pulling the tray out of Amy's hands, shoving it on the side to grab her face.

The hypnosis slipped again, "What's going on?" she said, again, confused.

"I don't think you're well Amy," said Steven, "I think you should go to bed."

"Oh," said Amy, "You're right, I just totally blacked out, there."

"You're tired and worried, that's all," said Steven, kissing her gently on the forehead, making Brendan want to rip her face off, "go to bed and I'll bring you a glass of water or something."

"Oh, right, er, sorry Brendan," she said.

"No worries, love," Brendan replied, giving her the best smile he could manage while imagining her falling out of the window, "You get better soon, yeah?"

Steven glared at him again, but Amy gave him a smile, and a cheery, "Night then, boys," before making her way to one of the doors which probably concealed her bedroom.

Again Steven waited until she was out of earshot before saying "Get out Brendan!"

Brendan gave him a scathing look, "You think just because that didn't work the first three times, it's bound to work now?"

"I thought you might understand if I said it loudly enough!"

"Nope," said Brendan, crossing his feet and getting comfortable on the arm chair.

Steven looked ready to explode, "Fine!" he said, "I'm calling Cheryl."

"What?" Brendan cried, "why on Earth…?"

Steven used his bitterest voice as he pulled out his phone, "Well there's got to be somebody you care about enough to listen to them!"

Brendan grabbed Steven's phone, "Hey!" he threw the phone aside but the rest of his words died on his lips. He had been about to shout that he cared about Steven. Except of course he didn't. Steven had betrayed him. He just didn't want Steven to die.

So he stood, impotently, not knowing what to say. Steven raised his eyebrows expectantly, and when Brendan still didn't finish what he was saying, Steven rolled his eyes.

"Oh, whatever! I'm going to bed, right? You do what you want!"

And Steven turned away from him, disappearing into his room and slamming the door. Brendan frowned. Part of him was annoyed. Steven had just decided to ignore him! How could he do that?! Brendan was gorgeous!

No, that wasn't what he meant! He meant that he was a vampire, and Steven had just left him unsupervised in his family's home. Did he have no sense of preservation? This was exactly why Brendan had to stay here and look after him. Stupid boy.

He sat back on the sofa, arms folded, thinking about going in to that room and forcing the boy to see that he was in danger and that Brendan was looking after him, and that he was being stupid and should be crawling on bended knee begging for Brendan's forgiveness for even listening to a nut-case like Walker! And there was no way Brendan was leaving. Steven could ignore him all he liked, but Brendan was staying put. And that was that.

It didn't take long for Brendan to get bored just sitting there doing nothing. Steven was in bed, maybe even naked and he was sat in this poor excuse for a living room. That just wasn't right! He was half way to Steven's door when he remembered he was supposed to be mad at the boy Brendan turned around and headed back to the living room, deciding to entertain himself in a different way. About ten minutes later he'd managed to find Steven's hidden DVD collection, some of the names had given him a right laugh: Bryan the Bed Slayer had been his particular favourite. He'd almost felt guilty when he chucked them all in the bin, almost. But Steven wouldn't be needing them any more when Brendan got his hands on him. Not that Brendan planned to have his hands all over that golden skin, it was just in case of course.

Brendan was half way through rummaging through Steven's fridge, when he spotted it. A big piece of raw steak that was dripping with blood. His fangs automatically shot out, saliva starting to form at the corner of his mouth. As a human he'd loved steak and it had been so long since he'd had any. He grabbed the package and pulled it out of the fridge. He tore open the plastic and took the cold meat into his waiting hands. It wouldn't help just to smell the delicious meat, he hadn't fed from anyone since he'd met Steven. The urge to feed seemed to drift away each time he was in Steven's company. Why go out and get the equivalent of cheap beer, when he had a fine bottle of whisky within his grasp? Not that he'd ever open that bottle...Brendan lifted the meat to his nose and inhaled deeply, almost shuddering with pleasure at the smell. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until this moment. He lifted the meat to his mouth and began to suck the blood from it. He glanced up for a second and suddenly noticed a pair of blue eyes staring at him. Even though he was a vampire, the shock of someone sneaking up on him nearly caused him to jump. Nobody had been able to do that for years, it must be the boy's presence affecting his powers again.

A small child with long blonde hair was looking at Brendan with big eyes. Instead of the usual fear (which usually happened at the very sight of a vampire with their fangs out) there was a blatant and familiar curiosity. She was obviously Steven's daughter.

"Does Daddy know you're a vampire?" asked the small girl, not seeming one bit put out by this stranger in her kitchen.

"I'm not a vampire Princess, you're just having a bad dream." he said, putting on his softest voice. Brendan was seriously impressed, the girl had worked out in less than a minute something that had taken Steven days.

The little girl frowned and then pinched herself. "I'm not dreaming, you're a vampire. Vampires are my favourite monsters." she lifted up the bat teddy in her arms. "Bart's a vampire too."

"Cute." answered Brendan, he began to gently reach his mind over to the girl. Brendan didn't want to control her, just help her back to bed. "You will go back to bed sweetheart."

The girl raised an eyebrow at him. "No." she said firmly.

Brendan forced himself not to groan, looks like Steven's little girl was just like him.

"Shall I get Daddy?" asked the girl, a child like challenge in her voice. "Daddy doesn't think vampires are real, but they are."

"How much?" asked Brendan, resorting to the one thing that always worked when mind control didn't: blackmail. He pulled out his wallet and fished out a few tens. "Twenty pounds do?" He was willing to bet his immortal life savings that Steven wouldn't like finding out the fact that the girl knew he was a vampire. It certainly wouldn't help him get into Steven's pants any quicker! Not that he wanted to, of course.

The girl pulled a face at the money.

"There must be something you want."

The girl's eyes suddenly lit up. "I want you to sing me a song and then tell me a story."

Brendan groaned. "You've got to be kidding, kid."

She shook her head, and curled a strand of hair around her finger. "I could go wake Daddy..."

"What song?" growled Brendan through gritted teeth. He hadn't been outwitted in over a century by anyone and yet this small girl had complete control over him. If Leah had been older, Brendan would have thought she was a vampire herself.

"I kissed a girl." answered the girl, looking at him with big eyes.

"Don't know it." lied Brendan.

"Daddy!" shouted the girl, not taking her eyes off Brendan. In a way that suggested she was waiting for his next move.

"Alright, alright." Brendan said quickly and began to sing what he considered one of the most annoying songs of the century. He'd hated it when it played all the time in his previous club and he hated it even more now. "I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my friend Ste don't mind it..." he cringed at the sound of his own voice. "It felt so wrong, it felt so right..."

"What's going on in here?" asked a male voice from the doorway. Steven stepped into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "Is that my steak sitting on the table?"

"Your friend was singing Daddy." answered the girl, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"It's two in the morning Leah. He's not meant to be singing." Steven's eyes finally met Brendan's and for the first time in days they softened slightly.

Brendan glanced at the child with a healthy respect. So her name was Leah, he'd remember that. Not many humans, let alone a small child could outwit a vampire.

"You should be in bed." said Steven firmly to his daughter. "Say goodnight to Brendan."

"Goodnight, Brendan," said the girl, giving him a bright, approving smile but letting her Daddy take her hand. Steven took his daughter back to her room and after a moment returned to the kitchen. The two looked at each other for a moment, neither saying a word.

"Thank you for looking after Leah and not going all vampire on her." said Steven quietly.

"I'm not a complete monster Steven, I did have kids of my own, a long time ago." answered Brendan, feeling the familiar ache that came whenever he thought about Declan and Paddy.

Steven pulled a face. "Vampires can do that?"

"It was when I was human."

"What happened to them?" asked Steven.

"They died."

"I'm sorry." said Steven softly.

"It was a long time ago." Brendan answered, even though it hurt still like it was only yesterday. Brendan would never understand why vampires had the ability to feel love and loss. "And at least they never had to be like me."

Steven was suddenly looking at Brendan witth an expression on his face that almost looked as if he wanted to take all of Brendan's pain away. He walked towards Brendan with a determined look on his face.

"Steven...what are you..."

Brendan didn't have time to finish the sentence as Steven stepped forward and pressed his lips to Brendan's. There was all sorts of reasons why this shouldn't happen, but Brendan couldn't think of any in that moment. He knew one day he was going to hell, but just for this moment in time he suddenly felt like he was in heaven.

* * *

Amy Barnes slipped out of the flat unnoticed. She'd picked the exact right time, Ste and Brendan were too busy with one another to notice her go. She walked through the dark streets only wearing a long, white, cotton nightdress. Even though it was a cold night she did not shiver or even flinch as her bare feet scraped against the stones on the path.

A clock struck two somewhere in the distance, but Amy didn't pause and continued to move almost zombie like. She stopped as she reached the park, only taking a moment to swiftly climb over the locked gates. Her nightdress caught on the rails and caused the material to tear at her shoulder, but even that didn't stop her from continuing onwards. Amy stopped as she reached a bandstand and sat down on it, her eyes glazed and an odd smile on her face.

"Hello darling, you look delicious tonight." said a voice softly from behind her.

Amy turned, almost robotically. "Master."

A man slid into the space next to her, sitting so close that Amy was almost sitting on his knee. "Is everything going to plan?"

"Yes, master." answered Amy. "Ste has a job at the night club and the vampire is already entranced by him. Just as my master wanted."

"Excellent." said the man. "It won't be long now my precious." he pushed a strand of long hair behind her ear. "It's such a shame, I'll almost regret having to kill you when it's over. You've done such a fantastic job and been such a...distraction." he dipped his cold lips down and kissed the bear skin on display from the tear at Amy's shoulder.

She shuddered with pleasure at the contact. "The vampire is at the house at the moment, heard he is afraid for Ste." continued Amy.

"He doesn't release the boy is the key to his downfall. Brendan will kneel and kiss my feet when this is all over." He licked his lips, noticing how pale Amy's skin looked in the moon light. "I think it's time for your reward my precious."

He pushed Amy back into the wood, climbing on top of her form that was beginning to shiver in anticipation. With one hand he pushed the nightdress over head, exposing Amy's pale naked body.

"Please." whispered Amy desperately, clawing desperately at the man's clothes.

He pushed forward, as Amy rubbed herself against his clothed bulge. He could smell already that she was over aroused, since becoming a vampire, sex with either sex had become amazingly pleasurable. He pulled his trousers down quickly and pushed himself into her warm body. Amy screamed out with pleasure immediately, it was one of the things he loved about the girl: she wasn't afraid to scream. He pressed deeper, hearing the wood bellow them creak and crack with the intensity of their activities. Sex was the reason Amy Barnes was so easy to control, she was almost addicted to him now. It took little effort these days for her to answer his call and do his bidding. By day she would not remember a thing, but in the middle of the night she came to him and offered herself happily. He knew the girl believed what happened between them was part of several connecting dreams. It was silly that the bite marks hadn't been a giveaway to her by now. As he felt her shivering to a climax his fangs slid out and plunged straight into her shoulder, his tongue lapping and sucking at Amy's lifeblood.

The girl wasn't too bad considering she wasn't his usual type, shame she'd have to die soon.

**(AN: *sniggers* didn't say it was Stendan sex!)**

**Appreciate the slow build, people! Slow build!**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Thanks to anyone who is still reading and reviewing and so it's taken so long! We hope you enjoy our latest offering! x**

Ste woke up in a very uncomfortable position. His knees were tucked up, his head at a weird angle and his whole body leaning against a solid object. He groaned a bit before he opened his eyes, taking a glance around his surroundings.

The solid object turned out to be Brendan. They were sat on the sofa in Ste's living room, where they'd been sat and all night.

Ste had been overwhelmed by seeing Brendan singing to Leah. The cold-hearted vampire had been wrapped around the finger of Ste's five-year-old daughter and there was something heartbreakingly adorable about that, something that made Ste want to squeal in delight. And Brendan had followed it up with that moment of genuine honesty and Ste had failed to control his own desires.

The kiss hadn't gone anywhere. It wasn't that sort of kiss. It was a kiss of understanding, of caring, and when Ste had pulled away, it had been enough to smile at each other. Then they'd sat on the sofa and talked. Not about the stuff that was changing their lives right now, just pleasant things like Leah, Lucas and Brendan's children, Padraig and Declan. They didn't mention what had happened between them and neither apologised, but they lapsed into gentle silence soon enough as both grew drowsy. They must have fallen asleep before Ste could try to find Brendan any bedding.

He sat up and checked Brendan was alright. It was very strange to see that he wasn't breathing, knowing that if he put his hand on that chest again he would feel no heartbeat. He couldn't resist putting a hand out to try it. The chest was not as cold as he'd expected, but he supposed that was because he'd been leaning against it for a while. He wondered if the rest of Brendan would be cold. He traced his hand up, and stroked Brendan's face.

Brendan sighed.

Ste wondered if that was like breathing or not.

Then he wondered if Brendan wanted breakfast. The sky was lightening through the thin curtains of the flat and the kids would be running around soon. He didn't suppose coco pops would cut it. Maybe they had some bacon. Could vampires eat bacon?

He got up and made his way towards the kitchen, yawning and stretching as he went. Maybe Amy had already started cooking; he thought he could smell something, but there was no one in there when he looked. He opened the fridge. What was the most like blood they had?

"Jesus!" shouted a voice from the living room, making Ste jump. He dropped the fridge door and sprinted back the way he came.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he cried.

Brendan was trying desperately to pull the cushions up from the sofa. He held them in front of him like a shield, like they were his only protection from a dangerous, unseen enemy. There was smoke rising slowly from his body.

"Steven!" he cried.

Cursing himself for his stupidity, Ste had to think hard. Where was the safest, darkest place in the house? Where did the sun never shine?

"Quick!" he cried, "under mi bed!"

He threw open the door to his bedroom and Brendan followed and dived under the untidy frame. Ste stared for a moment in shock.

"Bren? Brendan?" he tried, "are you alright?"

"Yeah," he heard Brendan reply, "I'm fine. I'm… fine."

Ste bent down, nervously, dreading what he might see. Would Brendan be scarred? Burned somehow?

It was very dark under the bed, so Ste picked up his bedside light and brought it down with him. Brendan was lying flat on his back the floor, looking exhausted. "Am I still on fire, Steven?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Ste replied. "I'm sorry, I forgot…"

"Yeah," Brendan replied, "it's ok. Err..."

Ste knew why he was erring. The bed was under the window and would always be in shadow, but the rest of the room was clearly swimming in the early morning sunlight. Ste's curtains were closed but thin, emmitting a glow that Ste suspected would set Brendan on fire again if he tried to cross it. The living room would be no better and then there was a whole village now bathed in sunshine. There was no way Brendan could cross it all if he caught fire from sunlight through a curtain.

"You're stuck here, aren't ya?" Ste said.

"Yeah," Brendan replied.

"Right..." said Ste. "Well, we can't let Amy find you 'ere. So you'll have to be quiet, at least 'til she goes out, right?"

Brendan made a face, "You want me to hide under your bed all day?"

The face annoyed Ste more than the words, "Have you got any better ideas?" he snapped.

"No," replied Brendan, sulkily.

"Well, then," Ste said, and tried to think what they had on today. "It's a Saturday, isn't it?"

"Is it?" asked Brendan, "you kind of forget to care after a few hundred years."

Deciding Brendan was just sulking, Ste ignored the comment, "So, the kids are gonna be at home, right?"

"Are they?" said Brendan, but with obvious lack of caring for that fact.

"Well, yeah," said Ste. "So, right, you've got to be really quiet."

"So, I'm gonna lie here, in silence, all day, am I sSteven?"

"Well, what do you usually do during the daytime?" Ste snapped, now annoyed. This was not his fault.

"Sleep, obviously," Brendan replied with a sneer.

"Well, you can do that here!" Ste protested.

"What, with two brats wondering around the place?"

"Hey!" Ste cried, "my kids aren't brats!"

"Yeah, yeah," said Brendan.

"Oi!" snapped Ste, "just 'cause our Leah manipulated yer."

Brendan snorted, "Too clever for her own good, that one," he muttered, but Ste recognised the tone of fondness in his voice.

"Yeah, she's dead clever is our Leah," Ste said, proudly, "Are you hungry?"

He saw the look Brendan gave him; a longing desperation but awesome fear too, and added "Not from me! I just meant, like, raw meat or something?"

"Raw meat?" Brendan repeated, "I ain't a bear, Steven."

"Or black pudding or something?" Ste tried, rolling his eyes.

Brendan frowned, "I haven't tried black pudding since I was alive."

Ste made a face, "What, so, you only drink like proper blood?"

Brendan looked at him like he was mental, "They line up at the door, Steven, why would I turn them down for some dried up mess?"

Ste rolled his eyes, tried not to let the stab of jealousy or the strange sickening feeling overwhelm him. "Do you want some black pudding or not?" he snapped.

Brendan thought about it. Then he said "Yes."

"Alright," said Ste, "I'll go and get some."

Brendan was still sulky, and failed to thank him, so Ste felt no guilt at not explaining he would have to go to the supermarket to buy some. He hoped he could be less than two hours, but the buses to Chester weren't very good.

* * *

Brendan had heard the door open and close quite a while ago. "Steven?" he'd called quietly as soon as he recognised the sound. There was no answer from anywhere in the flat, so he tried again, "Steven?"

He cursed. He couldn't even shuffle out from under the bed for fear of the sunlight, surely Steven hadn't just abandoned him alone in the flat? He listened hard. He could hear Amy's gentle breathing, shuffling children, soft footsteps heading his way.

Too small to be Steven's.

The door to the bedroom opened and a pair of tiny feet appeared in the doorway.

"Daddy?" said a tiny voice.

Brendan tried to be silent. The last thing he needed was Leah shoving her nose into his business again. Who knows what she'd blackmail out of him this time, when there was no simple explanation for being under her father's bed.

A face peered down at him. It wasn't hers, but this wasn't going to be good either.

"What are you doing under my Daddy's bed?" asked the tiny boy, slowly and carefully.

Brendan thought before he answered. "I'm just waiting for him to come back," he said.

"My Daddy?" asked the little boy.

"Yep," Brendan replied, looking up at the bed springs, hoping the kid would understand that as the end of the conversation.

"Where is Daddy?" the little boy asked, ignoring Brendan's body language and crawling under the bed with him.

"He's gone to get some breakfast," Brendan replied, "Why don't you go play with your sister?"

"OK," said the little boy, wriggling out again, without complaint, and disappearing out of the room again. Brendan sighed in relief. At least Ste's children weren't both manipulative little brats.

He heard the boy go to one of the other rooms, then call "Leah, the man said you should come and play with us!"

"That is not what I said!" Brendan snapped at no one.

"Which man?" he heard Leah reply.

"The man under Daddy's bed," said the little boy, "come and see."

Two pairs of feet came back to him and Brendan groaned again. The door opened and he saw both pairs of feet come his way, and two heads appeared as both Steven's children investigated the man under their Daddy's bed.

"Hello Mr vampire," greeted Leah with a smile. "Why are you under Daddy's bed?"

"Because I like it under here," Brendan replied with a gentle growl, refusing to look at them in hopes that they would take the suggestion, "go find something to do."

"Are you going to play with us?" Leah asked.

"No!" Brendan snapped.

There was silence from the kids and Brendan couldn't resist looking. The little boy had wide, surprised eyes. Leah's looked wet.

"Why are you shouting at me?" the little girl asked in a quavering, tiny voice.

"I'm not…" But he never finished. The little girl let out a sob. Seeing his older sister react like that set the little boy off too. "Jesus," Brendan mumbled, if they carried on, their mother would find him probably ask him to leave, or at least go into the living room and then his secret would be out. Or he would burn. Neither were good.

"Alright!" he hissed, "but I can't come out."

Leah grinned, "Will you read us a story?" she chimed, and Brendan got the distinct impression he'd been played again.

"Whatever," he said, stroppily and she cheered and ran off, presumably to find a story. The little boy stopped crying too and crawled back under the bed with him. Then he clambered over Brendan and lay on the other side, right next to him, watching him with curiosity. Brendan wondered if he'd ever been that trusting. He should warn the boy, show him you couldn't trust anyone, that he should never put himself in the position he just did. Some people would pray on that trust, turn it into a weakness, break it into a thousand ugly pieces.

"You alright?" he asked instead.

The little boy nodded. "It's dark under here," he said.

"Are you scared?" Brendan asked. The little boy nodded. Maybe he wasn't old enough to be ashamed of his fear. "There's nothing to be scared of under Daddy's bed, though," Brendan told him, "and I'm here to look after you."

He hadn't meant to add the last bit. It felt like it was true though.

The little boy nodded again.

"What's your name?" Brendan asked.

"Lucas," Lucas muttered, as his sister scrambled in with them, a bundle of books in tow.

"These are my books, but Mummy says they're a bit hard for Lucas, so I think you should read us this one."

Leah spoke with certainty. Brendan admired her confidence. But couldn't help admiring Steven for making her that way. These were children who knew they were loved and protected, no matter what.

Leah shoved a bright pink book under Brendan's nose, and mirrored Lucas so Brendan had a small child on each side, and no escape. Brendan looked at it with a frown. "Vampirina Ballerina?"

"Yep," said Leah, "It's about a vampire that does ballet."

Brendan's lip curled, "Vampires don't do ballet," he said.

"Yes they do," said Leah, "just 'cause you don't doesn't mean that no vampires do."

"I think you'll find…" Brendan started, ready to contradict her, but she gave him a smile.

"You've got to read this to us now," she said, factually.

Brendan looked at Lucas. He didn't think this was a 'got to' situation. But the little boy just nodded solemnly.

He sighed, "Oh, come on!" he cried to the little boy, "you don't want me to read this?"

The little boy nodded solemnly, and Brendan rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine, whatever!" he snapped, and opened the book.

"Vampirina ballerina," he started.

* * *

Ste had taken ages to find black pudding. The woman in Price Slice gave him a look of mild disgust, but the supermarket had a packet of slices. They didn't look tempting to Ste, but maybe it would keep Brendan happy until he could get some of the club's special brew after dark.

He travelled home on the bus, trying not to imagine Brendan asleep under his bed. Or what Amy would say if she found him there. Surely there was no reason for Amy to look under Ste's bed.

Ste's leg started to twitch with a need to get there.

He tried desperately to stop his brain trying to come up with ways to have sex in the small space Brendan was hidden in. Two snogs did not mean they were together. They hadn't even tried to talk about Walker. Or what being 'with' a vampire might mean.

And he'd left a vampire alone with his children. Was he mad? He had no reason to trust Brendan. There was no doubt in his mind that he did trust Brendan, but he could imagine Amy's voice if she worked it out. Except of course Brendan could have hypnotised her into being his slave by now. Actually, that was probably the most likely thing he'd imagined all morning.

He hurried off the bus and ran the rest of the way home, shopping bag flapping about around him, his feet slamming into the street, his breathing getting ragged. He ran and ran, fumbled for the key, stumbled down the path, slammed into the door, threw it open. Revealed a quiet, calm flat.

"Er, hello?" he called into the quiet.

He got no response. Maybe Amy had taken the kids out and Brendan was asleep. He stepped cautiously into towards his bedroom, opened the door as quietly as possible.

There was a quiet mumbling from under his bed. He stepped cautiously across the room and ducked his under to check if Brendan was sleep talking.

Last night had been ridiculous. Brendan singing to Leah had made his stomach swim in a gorgeous gooey mess of happiness. This was worse.

He had Lucas on one side, Leah on the other. He was reading them a story.

Ste had to hold in a squeak of adoration at the sight. Then crawled in next to Leah. If Brendan had noticed he showed no sign, as he finished the book with a satisfied nod.

"Again!" said Leah straight away.

"Er, Leah, please and thank yous!" Ste said.

"Again, please!" the little girl insisted straight away.

"Steven," said Brendan, "your children seem to have invaded my space."

"Well, it is their home, Brendan," Ste replied, with a teasing grin.

"Steven..." Brendan growled, and Ste grinned at him.

"But I haven't heard the beginning of Vampirina Ballerina!"

Brendan looked at him with dark eyes, "Maybe if I get some sleep I'll be able to tell you a grown up version later, Steven," he said in a voice that stroked Steven with sexual need. Ste almost forgot to breath.

Brendan put his head in his hands, "Right kids, Daddy's going to play with you now, so get lost, right?"

"Oh!" moaned Leah.

"Oh!" Lucas copied.

Ste recognised a plea to escape when he saw one. "Come on kids, Brendan needs to sleep now."

"Oh!" the kids repeated.

"Come on!" he repeated, "go find something to do!"

The kids scrambled out from under the bed, and plodded off into the living room, finding some of the noisiest toys in the house in moments. Brendan groaned. He seemed to be just starting to fall asleep, when Ste slid back into the space next to him. He stared at Brendan for a moment, before tentatively reaching out and tracing the line of Brendan's moustache. Brendan reached up and caught Ste's hand, pressing it to his face. Ste's hand felt deliciously warm and Brendan was almost sure he could smell the sunlight on his skin.

"I brought you some black pudding.' Ste almost whispered, unable to take his eyes off Brendan. He pulled a open the packet and grabbed a piece of black pudding from it. He slowly raised it to Brendan's lips and slid it through the gap.

Brendan let out a shudder as Ste slid the dried blood into his mouth, it was one of the most sensual things that had ever been apart of. It didn't seem to matter to Brendan that the black pudding was disgusting, he seemed content with staring straight into Ste's eyes as he slowly chewed on his food. As Ste slid another piece into Brendan's mouth his finger brushed against one of his sharp fangs. Immediately Ste could tell that the disgusting taste of dried animal blood had been replaced by the taste of his own blood, Brendan's pupil's were huge and his eyes almost looked black Brendan let out an animalistic growl and grabbed Ste's shoulders, pulling him flush against his own body. Ste's heart began to beat erratically and he let out a gasp of pleasure as Brendan began to suck on his bleeding finger even harder.

"Daddy!" cried a child's voice.

The two men sprang away from each other; Ste was pleased to see that Brendan's eyes were heavy with desire.

"I better go see what she wants." said Ste, he slid out from under the bed and his feet padded across the room. As he joined the kids in the living room he could still hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

* * *

When Brendan woke up later the room was bathed in darkness. He could already sense that sundown had occurred over half an hour ago and that there now only seemed to be two heartbeats in the flat. He slid out from under the bed with a grace that only a vampire was capable. Brendan sneered in disgust at the sleeves of his suit that were covered in dust, didn't Steven ever clean under his bed? He smoothly exited the room so quickly and silently that he caused Steven to jump as he appeared behind him.

"I was just coming to wake you." said Steven nervously. "Just took the kids to a friend's house, Amy hasn't been feeling that well today."

Brendan stepped forward and buried his face into the pulse point in Steven's neck. He was hungry and Steven's racing heart wasn't doing anything to calm his hunger or desire for the boy. Steven smelled of his desire, and shivered with need, but tried to hide it.

"We're running a bit late, so I was thinking we could get the bus."

Brendan let out a humorous snort. 'Brendan Brady doesn't do buses Steven."

Steven looked adorably confused for a moment. "Then we're going to be proper late."

"Hello, vampire." Brendan pointed to himself and with relish noticed Steven was eyeing him up. "I'll get us there on time."

Steven rolled his eyes and went to get his coat. Brendan paused suddenly on his way to the front door, when his nose picked up on the faintest trace of a familiar smell. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was a scent he hadn't encountered in a number of years. He inhaled again, noticing it was coming from Amy's room...he stepped towards the door, but was distracted when Steven suddenly appeared in front of him. All he could smell now was the wonderful scent of his boy.

"Come on then, Brendan Brady," said Steven, smiling at him in a way that would send any man wild. "Show me how a vampire gets to work."

Brendan pulled the boy into his chest as they reached the front door. "Hold on tight, Steven. And whatever you do, don't close your eyes."

As soon as the door opened Brendan shot ten metres into the air, still clutching Steven to his chest. Steven screamed at first as they flew over a number of houses, but that soon turned into cries of delight. Brendan was always surprised by everything the boy did and how he reacted, for the first time in centuries he was fascinated by a human. He flew slower, enjoying the feel of the boy's warm body and heartbeat pressed to his chest. For the first time in his vampire life, not wanting a feeling to end.

They landed on the steps of DOA, Steven laughing giddily at the whole experience. Brendan placed Steven down, instantly missing the contact. Their eyes met and they both became silent for a moment, until Steven stepped forward and closed the gap between them. Their lips met and Brendan felt a familiar and pleasurable rush that he only got when he was in close contact with Steven. Brendan pressed him into the stair railings, pressing their bodies flush against each other. It still wasn't enough, he needed more. He wanted to taste and be inside Steven. Steven clung onto Brendan, as if he could sense his desire and need. Their lips moved and fitted perfectly together, as if they were made for each other.

The two pulled apart and Steven looked almost mesmerised. Brendan wondered why he hadn't tried this technique before. It seemed kissing the boy until he was breathless was a lot more affective than hypnotism.

"My office, now." said Brendan in a low voice. If they didn't go inside soon Brendan was going to take Steven right on this balcony and that wouldn't do anything for human-vampire relations.

"Okay." Steven agreed, smiling almost too trustingly at Brendan.

Brendan practically pulled Steven inside, pulling him gently across the empty club and towards the office. He felt a smug smile form on his lips when he realised he'd managed to avoid two major roadblocks: Mitzeee and Cheryl. The two were almost at the office when Theresa McQueen stepped in front of them, a strange expression on her face.

"Brendan." said Theresa, her voice not sounding as chirpy as usual.

Brendan resisted the urge to put his fist through a wall. Why did everyone insist on getting in the way each time he decided to take Ste as his own?

"Not now Theresa." growled Brendan through gritted teeth. His patience was beginning to wain.

"It's important." she said, her eyes wide with an unknown emotion.

"Last time you told me it was important, you'd broke a nail. So excuse me if I don't give you my full attention." Brendan glanced at the office door, he was so close but so far.

"Listen Theresa," said Steven in an important voice that saved the blonde from being thrown across the room. "We're busy, yeah?"

Brendan felt his veins run colder than usual. "Don't do that." he said shaking his head, Steven was making them sound like some loved up partnership. Brendan wasn't Ken and Steven certainly wasn't Barbie.

Theresa looked at them both, her little brain obviously working overtime. "You two are...Oh! I'll leave you too it." Her momentary problem seemed to have been forgotten by this new piece of gossip.

Brendan pulled Steven into the office and slammed the door in Theresa's face. Nothing was going to stop what he had planned for the boy. He pushed Steven up against the desk and shoved his top over his head before he had any time to protest. Steven let out a delicious groan as Brendan began to grind his hips into his. Brendan buried his face into Steven's delicious and warm neck and kissed every inch of his skin. He wanted to taste Steven, devour his golden skin that smelled of sunshine and touch every part of him, and if Steven's attack on his jacket and shirt were anything to go by, the boy felt the same. Brendan's hands began to slowly trace their way down to the waistband of Steven's trousers, tugging the fabric down. He was going to make the boy scream so loud that the whole club would hear him over the music.

"Well this is delicious." said Anne's sing-song voice.

Brendan reluctantly pulled himself away from Steven and shot Mitzeee a deadly glare.

"What do you want?" he asked darkly, turning around and stepping in front of Steven so he was concealed from Anne's curious gaze.

"I see you two made up, that didn't take long." she continued, enjoying Brendan's annoyance. "Though I guess you can be very _persuasive _when you want to be Brendan."

"Get to the point Anne, before I throw you through the wall." said Brendan. He added getting a lock for the office door to the list of jobs he needed to do, it came right after murdering Anne.

"Cheryl's locked herself in the toilets...again." said Anne, pulling a disgusted face.

"And I need too know this, because?" asked Brendan, his eyes hungrily glancing back at Steven.

Anne's face screwed up, as if she was remembering something horrible. "She's scaring off the customer's with her awful wailing. She won't come out for anyone but you."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Can't this club function without me for ten minutes?" asked Brendan, feeling completely frustrated.

Anne let out a snort. "Ten minutes, Brendan? More like two at the most. Don't give young Ste any illusions."

"Anne." he growled with warning.

"Are you coming or not?" asked Anne, hovering by the door.

"I'll be there in a minute." said Brendan coldly, not wanting to look back at Steven's disappointed face. "Put some clothes on." He didn't mean to take his fast declining mood out on Steven, but he couldn't help feel frustrated. He followed Anne out of the office without looking back.

When he entered the bathroom, the first thing Brendan heard was awful high pitched wailing. He flinched at the noise, half tempted to turn back and go the other way. When Cheryl was in a state it wasn't pretty. He glanced door at the floor and noticed a ball of fluff on the floor: Nate the dog was staring woefully at the locked bathroom door where the wailing was coming from. For a moment the two looked at each other lost, united by the fact they were male, with little knowledge on how to comfort a crying female. There was something strange about that dog!

Brendan stepped towards the door and knocked on it gently. "Chez?"

"Leave me alone Brendan." cried a voice. "I don't want to see you or Mitzeee. I just want you all to leave me alone!"

Mitzeee slipped into the bathroom and stood next to Brendan. "You can hear her wailing from the dance floor, you know? Customers are leaving because of it. Talk about dramatic." she rolled her eyes.

"Shut your gob Mitzeee!" cried Cheryl.

"What is this even about?" asked Brendan, feeling the urge to punch a hole in the bathroom wall rising. He wasn't prepared to listen to the two of them bicker, not when he'd had Steven half naked in his office not minutes before.

"Cheryl was chatting to some bloke, Mal I think his name was. And that tarty vampire Mercedes swooped in and took him off her. Now the two of them are upstairs and Mercedes is using him like one of those boxed drinks, amongst other things. Cheryl didn't take it very well." Mitzeee sounded as if the whole thing amused her.

"Shut up Mitzeee, that's not how it happened at all!"

"Yes it is and don't talk to me like that. It's not my fault you're a rubbish vampire." answered Anne.

"Well not every vampire can be a tart like you!" Cheryl cried back through the toilet door.

"If I hear one more word from either of you, I swear you both will be cleaning the toilets for the next hundred years!" growled Brendan.

Mitzeee stuck her chin in the air. "I'm only trying to help. Next time I won't bother. I'll be in the bar trying stop customers from leaving if you need me.' she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and strolled straight out the bathroom door.

As the door slammed shut, Cheryl's high pitched whining began again. "Why am I so hideous Brendan? Why doesn't any man want me?"

Nate the dog on the floor began to whine, as if he was trying to argue with her it wasn't true. Brendan shot the dog a look and it was once again silent.

"Chez I'm not talking to a door. Come out."

Cheryl sniffed loudly and after a moment the bathroom lock clicked. She stepped out of the cubicle, her eyes lined with trails of blood and eye shadow. She flung herself into his arms as Brendan awkwardly patted his sister, she began to sob loudly. He didn't have the heart to tell her she was ruining a five hundred pound suit.

"Will you stake Mercedes for me?" asked Cheryl through the tears.

"You know I can't to do that."

"Not even a little? If you loved me, you'd do it."

"No Chez," answered Brendan.

* * *

Ste angrily wiped the bar, trying to take out his anger out on it. He and Brendan had been getting on so well during the last twenty four hours; but it seemed Brendan had gone cold on him again. Ste watched as Brendan crossed the dance floor and began an angry conversation with Mitzeee by the stairs. Ste couldn't help but stare at the vampire, unable to believe that a man like Brendan would want someone like him. Brendan was beautiful and so mysterious and Ste was...just... well Ste. Just being around Brendan did funny things to both his heart and body. He'd never wanted anyone so much in his entire life. Brendan glanced up and noticed Ste staring at him, for a moment the two shared a smile like they were the only people in the room. Then something hard fell onto Ste's head and caused the spell to be broken. He touched the top of his head wincing with pain, and then looked around for any sign of what had fallen on him. Down on the floor lay a red stiletto shoe, which for some reason looked familiar to Ste. For a moment he glanced around, looking around him.

"Who threw that?" he asked the room in general.

Ste sensed that the object had came from above him before his eyes even found its source. It was a mass of red and yellow, almost floating like a Christmas decoration above the crowd. Ste's mind finally switched back on, realising the thing hanging in the air wasn't an object but a human woman slowly swinging round in a circle. Hanging by her neck from a rope tied to the rafters on the ceiling was Theresa McQueen, her face forever fixed with an expression of horror. She was dead.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Greetings! Here is our next chapter. We hope you like it! Thank you for all the brilliant reviews we received for the last chapter.** **They are as always much appreciated!**

Panic exploded through DOA.

The clubbers were screaming around Ste, staring at the dead girl hanging from the ceiling. A hundred people were panicking and shoving at each other trying to get out of there. A male voice was sobbing hysterically, calling the girl's name.

Ste was breathing too heavily. He tried to push through them, "Calm down!" he shouted. "Calm down!"

He was knocked hard and felt himself crash into the bar, sending waves of pain up his abdomen. He groaned, trying to stay out of the way, but people were still pushing, still screaming. He was being shoved, kicked, crushed and bruised.

Then suddenly there was absolute still and quiet. The people around him simply stopped still and silent.

He pushed away from the bar and looked at them. Their faces had gone blank. Ste was beginning to recognise that look.

He saw Brendan the moment he looked up. The vampire was on his walkway, almost level with Theresa's form. Ste only spent a tiny moment wondering if he could have had anything to do with the murder. The look on Brendan's face showed anyone who cared to look that he was as saddened by this as anyone. But Ste still freaked out.

Hundreds of people had been hypnotised around him in a matter of seconds. Not one person had thrown it off and Brendan hadn't even raised a sweat to do it, or even a finger. Ste stared around him. The power that Brendan had was terrifying.

"You alright, Ste?" he heard Mitzeee ask.

Ste spun towards her. She wasn't looking bubbly and spirited, but she hardly looked panicked, or any of those human emotions that should be expected. She wasn't surprised her friend could do this, or that an employee had been murdered.

Unable to answer, Ste ran for the door. He heard Mitzeee say "Leave him, he's in shock," and was grateful. He just needed a few minutes alone. He couldn't watch Brendan control so many people. It terrified him. It was scary, it felt wrong, it was not human.

The night air was cool and welcoming and Ste dragged it into his lungs greedily. It helped. He felt the blind panic ebbing away a little, he swore quietly to release some energy and sank down by the side of the door. There was more noise coming from the darkness than there had been inside the club, which was wrong. Dogs were barking, cars were speeding along, cats were fighting. A voice nearby said "But I told you to bring the gaffa tape!"

"I brought the sack!" said another. Unlike the first that had a strange accent that Ste thought was like Cheryl's, this one spoke like someone from Liverpool."And the rope, what did you bring?!"

"I brought me and my fantastic brain!" said the first.

"Exactly!" snapped the second, "you brought nothin' of any use whatsoever!"

"You were in charge of supplies, idiot!" snapped the Irish voice.

"And you're just a spare part!" countered the Liverpuldian

"I was in charge of planning!"

"Oh, great plan! We won't use rope on the witch, let's use gaffa tape, which we don't bloody well have!"

"Well, she might have an anti-rope spell!"

"But she might have had an anti-tape spell too!"

Ste couldn't stop his curious feet following the sounds, which were coming from round the corner of the building. Were they talking about a witch? Were witches real too? What next, werewolves? Or were these people just messing? Or a bit weird.

A figure appeared at the corner of the building, tiptoeing quietly towards him.

"Hang on," said the first voice, "you idiot, she's escaped!"

The figure squealed and made a dash for it, but before she got two metres two men were upon her.

"Where do you think you're going, witch!" said one of the men, who Ste now knew were somehow magical themselves. No human could have done that journey in a blink of an eye.

"Don't think you can run from Vinnie the Vicious!" said the second.

"Vinnie the Vicious?!" scoffed the first.

"Yes!" said Vinnie the vicious, "My name is Vinnie and I'm Vicious, so I'll be calling myself Vinnie the Vicious from now on! And it sounds good because it uses the same letters! It's an onomatopoeia!"

"That's alliteration, you idiot!" snapped the man who wasn't Vinnie the Vicious, "I think we should call you Vinnie the Illiterate!"

"But that doesn't work!" complained Vinnie the Vicious.

"Oh, for… come on!" snapped the other, as Ste wondered which side he should be on right now. He suspected his knowledge of witches which came from various works of literature was not going to help. "Get her in the sack!"

"No please!" pleaded the witch, "I only came out 'cos it's half price on sausage rolls at Price Slice!"

"And who are you anyway?" snapped Vinnie, "Eoghan the ordinary?"

"I'm just Eoghan, because I'm not an idiot," said Eoghan, "Where's that rope?"

"I told you, there's not enough left!" snapped Vinnie the Vicious, "We need more!"

"Oh, shall I go get whatever that blond girl's not using? See how that works out? At least tie her hands so she can't wave them about!"

"Please, you don't want to take me!" said the witch, "I'm one of the worst witches I know!"

"Wait, who's that?"

The two men had spotted Ste just as he'd realised which side he should be on. The rope and the blond girl; they had to be talking about Theresa. Which meant they had probably killed her.

"Oh my God! It's him, isn't it?" gasped Eoghan.

Ste turned. Brendan was inside the club, Brendan was safety. All he needed to do was get into Brendan's line of sight. An arm was around his waist before he could even get two steps. "What do we do?" said a panicky voice by his ear. He recognised it as Vinnie's.

"Er," said Eoghan, as Ste kicked and struggled, and shouted at them to get off, "take him back!"

"But the Master said..."

"We can hardly let him go back to Brendan!" snapped Eoghan.

"Can we make him forget?" said Vinnie, and Ste panicked further. Could they make him forget? Brendan couldn't hypnotise him, but he hadn't tried to make him forget anything. Unless he'd forgotten.

"Best not risk it," said Eoghan, "we best let the Master decide."

"You're not taking me anywhere!" Ste shouted, "BREND…"

A hand fixed over his mouth. "Now!" he heard Eughon snap and suddenly his feet were off the floor again. He was flying for the second time that day, but this time with none of the excited feelings of before. Now he was trying to scream for another reason, and seemed to be travelling faster than any car on the motorway. He didn't even dare struggle. Falling from this height would kill him in moments.

The realisation had already hit him. These people had killed Theresa. They'd probably killed all the others, too. And they'd recognised him.

Ste didn't think he was getting out of this alive.

* * *

"You will all calm the fuck down!" Brendan instructed the crowd below him, all of whom were looking at him with blank faces awaiting his instructions.

"We will all calm the fuck down," replied the crowd in eerie unison. They were quite disconcerting, this mass of people all listening and obeying his command. He hadn't thought about his actions before he did them. He saw Theresa, little more than a child, life snapped out in the space of a few minutes and he'd felt ready to cry. And then a hundred stupid idiots had started screaming and he'd wanted them to shut up, so he'd made them. He'd never tried to hypnotise more than a handful of people at a time. This was too much. This was scary. But kind of awesome, too.

"You will stay out of the way until we have respectfully taken her home."

"We will stay out of the way until you have respectfully taken her home."

"If you saw what happened, you will speak to myself or Mitzeee as soon as I have finished giving these instructions."

"If we saw what happened, we will speak to yourself or Mitzeee as soon as you have finished giving these instructions."

"You will speak to no one else about what happened here tonight."

"We will speak to no one else about what happened here tonight."

"Unless I tell you to do so!" Brendan added, realising the problems he might be creating for himself.

"Unless you tell us to do so," repeated the crowd.

"Then get to it!" Brendan instructed, and the sound of hundreds of feet obeying while no mouths spoke filled the room. It was still scary, still weird. Mitzeee was looking vaguely impressed with his power. Cheryl was looking slightly sickened.

"Bren," she said, "That was horrible! Imagine what Daddy would say about all of that!"

Brendan rolled his eyes. He left his father behind long ago, his opinions were worthless now.

"Who knew you were capable of that!" said Mitzeee, "yet you still can't get into Ste's pants!"

He glared at her, but was grateful she was trying to lighten the mood. He was being crushed by the image of Theresa McQueen. How old was she? Twenty? Twenty one? Probably even younger than Steven.

"Can we call her Mum?" he asked.

Cheryl shook her head, "She lives with her Aunty. Lived."

"Well get her on the phone, or something, yeah?" said Brendan.

"Her Aunty's Myra McQueen, Bren," said Mitzeee pointedly, and Brendan frowned.

"Course," he said, "I knew that. Get her in, yeah?"

He stepped to the very edge of the balcony, then flew to to the girl. Vampires weren't meant to hover in the air, but he could do it for long enough to scoop the girl up and cut the rope before taking her back to the ground and laying her down as gently as possible. He tore the rope away, tears in his eyes. A child. Whoever was doing these awful things needed to die slowly and painfully.

Brendan was no fool - these murders centred around the club and Steven. Most vampires he knew of drank from willing suppliers, but he knew accidents happened. He knew some people were just psychopaths: vampires and humans. He had no reason to believe Theresa's killer was a vampire. She hadn't been drunk from. But he knew enough to be suspicious. This was about Steven, which meant that unless Steven had a much darker and deeper past than he let on, this was about Brendan.

"Where's Steven?" he asked whoever was nearest.

"He just popped out for some air," said Mitzeee, "I think he was a bit shocked by the whole mass hypnotising thing."

Yeah, that would freak out Steven. It had freaked out Brendan.

"Is he alright?" he asked, wondering if it was OK for him to be running after his lover when a girl was dead in front of him.

"He's fine, Brendan," said Mitzeee reassuringly. "I'll go check on him if you like, though."

"No answer from Myra's," Cheryl told him.

"Keep trying," said Brendan. "What happened to the one in the cellar?"

"What?" said Cheryl.

"The one in the cellar!" Brendan repeated, "the body in the cellar!"

"What body in the cellar?!" Cheryl cried, obvious shock in her voice.

"The body in the cellar, Cheryl, we do not have multiple bodies in the cellar, Cheryl!"

"Since when was there a body in the cellar, Brendan?" cried Mitzeee.

"Since you locked me in there with it and Steven!" Brendan shouted.

"And you didn't feel like mentioning it at the time!" Mitzeee shouted back, accusingly.

"I had to go to Steven!" he protested. Obviously he did, but it was stupid he'd forgotten to tell them. "Look, just go find someone who can make them disappear."

"Who?" cried Cheryl.

"Oh, just... just leave it, I'll sort it!" He rubbed a hand over his face, and breathed deeply. "One of you go check on Steven, he's been ages."

Cheryl nodded and went on her way. Mitzeee stood closer, "So, we're going to cover this up, then? Not go to the police?"

He'd had that on the edges of his mind, but hearing Mitzeee voice the question confirmed it to him. "You know as well as I, the police won't be finding these monsters."

"And you will?" she asked, and Brendan heard a note of worry in her voice.

He scooped Theresa up into his arms, looking at her empty eyes, her features frozen in terror. Brendan began to shake with anger, radiating with fury from every part of his body. "I'll find them if it kills me."

* * *

Ste opened his eyes slowly and let out a long groan. The last thing he'd remembered was flying through the cold night air and then it had all gone black after that. His head hurt, so he assumed one of the men must have knocked him out or he'd passed out. He tried to move, but realised he seemed to be tied to a chair.

"Do you think the Master would mind if we just had just a little lick of him?" asked one of the voices, Ste assumed his name was Eoghan. "I'm really hungry. That police officer bloke just didn't fill me up.'

"I don't think we should. There's something different about him, something that's not quite right about him," answered Vinnie the Vicious, or whatever his name was. "Besides I think I'm getting a bit fat."

"Vampires don't get fat, stupid!"

"How do you know Eoghan?"

"Because I am one."

"Well you obviously haven't looked in the mirror lately, because you've put on more than a few pounds!" said Vinnie in a childish voice.

"Vampires can't look in mirrors!" growled Eoghan.

Ste glanced over at the two men, noticing neither were paying attention to him. He took the chance to look around the room and noticed the woman who he'd caught them kidnapping earlier had her eyes closed.

"Well that's obvious by what you're wearing! Did you get dressed in the dark this morning?"

Eoghan's face twisted with anger. "You know I haven't been feeling myself since I feasted on that Will Savage kid, he didn't half repeat on me. I don't know how you can be so cruel!"

"It's not cruel, I'm just being honest." said Vinnie, scratching his head in confusion.

"Right, well I've had enough of you!" shouted Eoghan. "Outside now!"

Vinnie pulled a face. "Why do we have to go outside? It's cold out there."

"Vampire's don't feel the cold you idiot!"

"Stop calling me an idiot!"

"Well stop being one then!" replied Eoghan. "I want to hit you and you know Master says we're not allowed to fight in the house any more. You know what happened last time."

Vinnie crossed his arms. "I don't care what master says. I don't know why he got so upset, it was only a bit of blood on the carpet!"

"Yeah! And look who was the one who had to clean it up!"

Vinnie snorted. "Well you were the one who decided to play with your food. You eat like a pig! No wonder Brendan doesn't want you."

"Take that back!"

"Make me!" hissed Vinnie.

Eoghan flew at Vinnie and began to claw at his face. If the situation wasn't so dangerous, Ste might have laughed. He felt like he'd been kidnapped by the Chuckle brothers! And what was there connection to Brendan? He began to wiggle against whatever was holding him and found himself tied quite loosely. If Vinnie and Eoghan would just leave, he might have a chance of escaping. He glanced over at the woman again and noticed this time she was awake. They looked at each other, both trying to silently communicate.

"Not the face!" cried Vinnie in a feminine shriek. "Anywhere but the face!"

"I'm improving it!"

Vinnie rolled Eoghan off him and began to yank savagely at his hair.

"You fight like a girl...ow!" cried Eoghan.

"Well you look like you've got a stick shoved up your-'

He was silenced by Eoghan clamping his teeth over his hand.

Vinnie let out another girly cry. "You bit me you bastard! And it really hurt!' big red tears started to leak from his eyes. "You crossed the line man!"

Eoghan spat onto the floor in disgust. "Well you taste bloody awful. I won't be able to get the taste out of my mouth for weeks now. It's not like I can brush my teeth!"

"I'm a vampire, what do you expect me to taste like? Treacle sponge?"

"Why would you taste like treacle sponge?" asked Eoghan.

"Why would you bite me to find out in the first place?"

"Boys!" shouted a new male voice from above. "Are you down there? I brought fast-food, they were pretty quick but I caught them in the end. It's Chinese."

Vinnie and Eoghan looked at each other for a second; before they both ran towards the stairs, childishly pushing and shoving each other on the way up. It seemed they had completely forgotten about their hostages as the door slammed behind them.

Ste waited for about a minute, before he desperately began to struggle against his binds. He threw himself forward and fell to the floor and for a moment was disorientated. That was stupid. He looked at the woman with him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No, I think they've crushed me sausage rolls!" she moaned, sadly. "I bet they're proper warm now."

Ste didn't know what to say to that, so he said, "You're a witch, right?"

"I sure am," said the witch, with a proud smile, "I'm one of the top three witches in the Chester area."

"Wow!" said Ste, impressed, "so, do you think you could get us untied?"

The witch looked away (well as much as she could while tied to a chair), "Well, I don't... you see... I know a great spell that burns through wood."

Ste was impressed, "Brilliant!" he said, "well go for it."

"But I need a lock of a virgin's hair," she said, "here, I don't suppose you're a..."

"No I bloody ain't!" snapped Ste.

"Hey, no need to be like that, I was only asking!" cried the witch.

"Well you must have another spell?" Ste cried, aware that their captors could return at any moment, "Like one that can untie knots?"

"Er, no," said the witch, "I don't know one that does that."

"How about one that could put them to sleep?"

"Oo, sleep is hard," said the witch, "could have come in dead handy when my kids were small, that, but it had so many steps!"

Ste was getting desperate, "Call for help?" he tried.

"Er, no, can't do that either."

Ste frowned at her, "You say you're one of the top three witches in Chester?"

"Well, yeah," said the witch, "you know, third, but that's top three!"

"And how many witches are there in the Chester area?" Ste asked, catching on.

"Well, three, but they're bloody good the other two!"

Ste closed his eyes and bumped his head against the floor. "Is there anything you can do?" he asked.

"Oo, I have a great line in budgerigars," said the witch.

"Budgerigars?" Ste repeated.

"Oh, yeah, they're dead pretty! I sell them sometimes. Do you want one? I've got ten at my house."

"No, I don't want a bloody budgerigar!" snapped Ste.

"Oh, and I made a lovely cake for our Jacqui's birthday the other week."

"Can you do anything useful?!" Ste demanded, angrily.

"Er, to escaping this situation, you mean?"

"Yes," said Ste, "I would like to escape and before dumb and dumber come back."

"Then, no," she said, "not 'til I can move mi hands, anyway.

Ste groaned and wriggled in his bonds again. Surely there had to be a way to get back to Brendan? He needed to warn him that there was more than one vampire hurting people. Three from the sounds of it, these two idiots and their 'master'. He tugged at his wrists then reached for the thin rope that bound his hands together. His fingers caught one of the ends and he tugged it. The bonds came apart.

"Er, I think they tried to tie me up with a bow," he said, tugging them open.

"Really?" said the witch. "Not even our Carmel would think that was a good idea. And brains 'ave never our Carmel's strong point."

Ste got up, brushing himself down, checked for signs of their captors returning then untied the witch.

"Right," he said, "now we have to get out of here."

"Hang on!" said the witch, pulling out a packet of sausage rolls and checking them over. They were completely squashed. She pulled one out and took a big bite.

"That's proper rank!" said Ste.

"I'm hungry!" replied the woman, spraying pastry and meat out of her mouth full of food. "Do you want one?"

"No. We need to get out of here, before they come back." said Ste, finally removing the last piece of string (they obviously failed to find gaffa tape or more rope) holding her to the chair. He pulled her up and eyed a door that lead out the room that looked to be a basement; surely they wouldn't have been stupid enough to have left it open, right? He pulled the woman up and began to pull her towards the door as she let out an undignified squeak.

The door swung open on the first try and soon Ste was pulling the woman into the night. They were in an unfamiliar neighbourhood and none of the houses seemed to show any sign of life. Ste continued to pull the woman along, knowing any minute they could be recaptured again. About a minute later she collapsed against a garden wall, coughing and spluttering from the effort of running.

"We can't stop now!" cried Ste. "They'll kill us."

"Not if I put a spell on them. I'm a witch, you know? " gasped the woman, and Ste rolled his eyes. Some witch. He was the one who had been doing all the saving! "I can't run any more, it's taken me years to get a figure like this...I ain't ruining it with any of this running business."

"Well do it then." said Ste. Clutching his side that was starting to ache with stitch.

"I'm trying! This stuff is not as easy as it looks, you know!" she hastily stuffed another sausage roll in her mouth. "It takes years to become as good as me."

Ste thought secretly that it was several years wasted. "Can you at least get us out of here?" asked Ste. "Get us back to DOA?"

The woman's eyes suddenly lit up. "That I can do." She pulled a coloured stone out of her pocket and began to chant in a language that Ste didn't understand. It seemed just as he thought life couldn't get any weirder, it did!

Just as Ste was giving up and thinking the woman's claim of being a witch was a lie, he began to feel a tingling on his chest. The skin just below his neck seemed to be growing and the top of his t-shirt began to stretch forward. When the tingling stopped Ste realised that he now had a perfect, well-sized pair of female breasts.

"What the hell have you done?" asked Ste, poking one of his brand new breasts. He had a feeling Brendan wasn't going to like this new development, if he ever got back to Brendan that is. It seemed nearly every man's dream was turning into his nightmare. "Get rid of them!"

"It was the wrong spell!" cried the woman, defensively stating the obvious. "That's the one I used to help our Carmel the other day! I can't remember the reversal spell off the top of me head. Can't you keep them?"

"No!"

The woman held the rock out in front of her again and began to chant. This time Ste knew things were different, a circle of light formed underneath them and a strong wind rushed around them. Myra's chanting got louder and her eyes turned golden in colour. The street in front of them seemed to be shimmering and becoming distorted.

"There they are!" cried a voice nearby. "Master won't flay us alive after all. Get them!"

Vinnie ran towards them, his arms outstretched to grab them. Just as his fingers reached out to grab Ste's arm, he and Myra disappeared with a loud bang and a cloud of dust.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews for the last chapter! Here is our next chapter.**

Ste and Myra were pulled up in the air with force, the world around them seemed to blur and shimmer as if they were being pulled into a small hole at speed. The sensation only lasted for a few seconds before they were forcefully thrown onto the ground. Ste let out a long groan as he slowly pushed himself up from the ground, still feeling dizzy and completely lost. He shakily stood for about thirty seconds until he gave into the urge to be violently sick into a nearby bush.

It was only after Ste was finished emptying the contents of his stomach, that he realised they were not at DOA. They were not anywhere that Ste had been before. They were in what looked to be a dense wood with no signs of life or humans. Ste decided now was the time to let out a few choice words he could never say around his kids.

"There's no need for that language." scolded the witch. She seemed unbothered by their new location.

"Yes there is." answered Ste. "We're in the middle of nowhere! Why did you bring us here?"

The witch gave him a dark look. "You didn't specify where you wanted to go. I think I did a good job and got us out of danger, you should be thanking me. Didn't your Mum ever teach you manners?"

"Thank you." said Ste, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Because of you we may never get home."

"That's a bit dramatic love." said the witch, although she didn't seemed as cross as before. "I mean we could have landed in much worse places. It's quite nice out here and we won't starve because at least we've got my sausage...Oh my god!"

"What?" asked Ste, his eyes darting around trying to spot the danger.

"I dropped me sausage rolls!" her faced crumpled. "Now everything's ruined! We're going to die out here and animals will feast on our remains. I've seen it on one of those documentaries our Carmel tries to watch, although she usually turns over when the animals start eating one another. We're going to become one of those antelopes, aren't we?"

Ste watched as the witch pulled out her crystal, frantically chanting again in a language he didn't understand. He rubbed his head, thinking how easy his life had been before he'd discovered this new world. Sure he'd been jobless, but at least he hadn't spent his time being chased by murderous supernatural creatures or transported to the back end of nowhere by a witch. It might have been bearable if him and Brendan had managed to get some alone time together properly, but even that never seemed to happen.

"Listen..." started Ste, trying to calm the hysterical witch down. He realised he didn't even know her name. "What's your name?"

"Myra." she answered. She shook the crystal in her hand, as if trying to shake some power into a dead battery. It glowed for a moment and a bright spark shot from it and hit Ste, but then died again.

"Myra." said Ste, wondering why the name sounded familiar. His whole chest seemed to be tingling again where the spark of magic had absorbed itself into his body. He automatically reached up and touched where his chest was feeling abnormally warm, with relief he realised the breasts were gone. That alone gave him a small spark of hope. "How about we start walking and see if we can find anywhere to stay the night."

"Okay." answered Myra, she woefully put her hands into her pockets. Suddenly her face lit up into a smile. "I've found something!"

Ste smiled at her, feeling relief in his chest. "Will it help us get back to Hollyoaks?"

Myra gave him a look that suggested she thought he was crazy. "No. It's a bag of skittles! We won't starve to death after all. We're saved! Isn't it great?"

"Yeah." said Ste, half-heartedly. Looks like he was going to have to be the one to get them out of this mess after all. He looked around and decided to go right, that looked as good a way as any. He had never been any good at Geography or directions, to he was just going to have to go by gut feeling alone. Plus his body was tingling, telling him Brendan was that way. He pulled up Myra from where she was sitting on the ground and began to gently pull her along.

"Not so fast!" said a familiar voice.

Both Myra and Ste turned and noticed Vinnie-the-whatever-his-name-was standing in the clearing watching the two of them. Ste wondered how the hell he got there so quick, but quickly realised he must have been dragged there like they had been by Myra's spell.

In seconds Vinnie had appeared in front of them and grabbed their arms. "You two are my prisoners, you don't get to go anywhere without my say so. I'm taking you back to my master."

Ste closed his eyes. This was it, he was going to be murdered along with Myra. His thoughts immediately went to Brendan and the feel of his lips against his own, the laughing faces of his children and how he was falling in love with the vampire, but would never get to tell him.

"Err." said Vinnie looking sheepish, a look that made him seem more human than vampire. "Do either of you know which way it is?"

Myra let out a snort, but was silenced quickly by a look from Vinnie the Vampire. Ste couldn't help but think he was stuck with the two most useless supernatural creatures ever to have existed.

"No." said Ste, he pulled his arm easily out of Vinnie's grasp.

"Ah." said Vinnie and then big red tears began to fall from his eyes. "Master's going to kill me." he cried hysterically. He threw himself onto the ground with an almighty crash and began to beat at the ground like a hysterical child. "Why does everything always go wrong for me?" he sobbed.

Myra and Ste looked at each other awkwardly, neither knowing what to do. They could run, but the vampire was obviously going to be faster than them. Or they could try and help Vinnie, who would probably eat them in the end. Both things would end in their deaths.

"Shouldn't we help him?" hissed Myra.

"He's a vampire that's trying to kill us." whispered Ste.

"But he's so pathetic, he reminds me of how our Mercy used to be before she got turned. He's just a kid." Myra awkwardly pulled out a dusty old tissue from her pocket, bent down and began to dab at Vinnie's eyes.

Myra's kindness caused Vinnie to sob even louder.

"It's not fair." cried Vinnie. "I was going to spend the night with my friends having a Chinese man and convincing them to do Karaoke with my on the Wii. Now it's all ruined and master is going murder me. He keeps telling me I'm useless as it is."

Ste was sure there was a joke somewhere to this situation. A witch, a vampire and a human walk into a forest...he shook his head trying to think of anything that could get them all out of this situation.

"You're not useless. Tell him Ste." said Myra in a motherly tone. "He did a great job of kidnapping us, didn't he?"

Ste felt as if things were just getting weirder and weirder. "Yeah he did a great job." he lied.

"I did?" asked Vinnie, looking up at Ste with child like eyes.

"Yeah it was the best I've ever been kidnapped." Ste didn't mention it was the only time he'd ever been kidnapped.

Vinnie looked at the two of them, desperate for reassurance. "Maybe I can do all the kidnapping in future. I don't like murdering, it makes a mess of my shoes. Master won't let me do it any way, says I'll just be even more feckless than usual."

"So you didn't murder any of those people?" asked Ste, feeling relief they were not in the company of a murderer.

"No." said Vinnie. "I just helped get rid of the bodies, but I was proper vicious about it you know? You both would have been really scared and impressed." he looked at them both again for reassurance.

"Of course love." answered Myra. "You're a terrifying vampire."

Vinnie stood up and morphed his face, so that he teeth were showing. "That's what I keep trying to tell them, but they never believe me." he stepped towards Ste and suddenly sniffed the air. "You smell delicious."

"Err...thank you?" answered Ste.

Vinnie moved forward in a blur, so quick that it was almost unnoticeable. He pulled Ste into his arms, examining his face. "You're very pretty. No wonder he favours you." his tongue slipped out his mouth and he took a long lick of Ste's cheek. "You taste delicious as well and you're kind. It's a shame you'll end up just like his other toys."

Ste angrily pushed himself out of the vampire's grip. "What do you mean by that?" he suddenly felt the familiar feeling of something pulling on his mind, pushing into the space for control.

"You will leave Brendan Brady alone and give me what the witch gave you." said Vinnie, his eyes burrowing into Ste's. "You do not belong with him, now give it to me."

"Give you what? What's he on about Myra?" asked Ste, vaguely aware that Vinnie had attempted mind control with even less success than Brendan and Mitzeee had managed. "I didnt have a sausage roll, if that's what you mean?"

Myra paled. "You're with Brendan Brady?"

"Sort of," Ste replied, sensitive about the confusing and complicated nature of their relationship.

"I can't be here!" said Myra, suddenly. She pushed past them both and began to run into the woods. Her lack of concentration caused her to fall straight into a pond, full of fish. She let out a panic squeak and began to struggle at the sight of the fish. "I know where we are! We can't be here!"

Ste rushed forward and pulled her out of the cold water. "Where are we?"

A sorrowful howl echoed through the night, causing Myra to freeze. She clung onto Ste and began to shake. Ste wasn't sure whether it was from the cold or from fear. Ste looked around for Vinnie, but it seemed the vampire had disappeared.

"I've killed us both." cried Myra.

"How?" asked Ste, "What was that noise? It sounded like a wolf." the skin on the back of his neck began to prickle, with the distinct feeling they were being watched. Again another howl echoed through the night, this time it sounded closer.

"It's Trevor." whispered Myra. "We're on his land, I didn't realise before. He told me if I ever came here again he'd rip me apart limb by limb. Don't you see Ste? He's going to kill us."

The noise of a branch breaking caused Ste to look up, but he still couldn't see anything. "Who or what is Trevor?"

"He's a werewolf!" cried Myra.

As she uttered those words, Ste became aware of over a dozen yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. He hadn't really ever taken notice of a full moon before or ever questioned whether werewolves existed after finding out that vampires did. But as he stood holding a shaking witch, being stared at by hungry yellow eyes he began to realise his mistake. They were surrounded and there was no way out. They were going to die.

* * *

Brendan lay Theresa's delicate form down on the desk in his office, away from prying eyes. This was all his fault. He was the one being targetted by these monsters, these people had died so some sick bastard could upset him. So it was his responsibility to avenge them. In the unlikely event that it was a human doing all this, he would tear them apart limb by limb, slowly. He would have them experience each death they'd visited upon their victims. If they were a vampire he would find a way to prolong the agony even further as a lesson to all the others.

"You did this!" hissed a voice from the doorway.

He turned slowly to see a red eyed Simon Walker in a fighting stance. Brendan turned away again. "You don't think that," he pointed out, simply.

"Turn around!" Walker ordered, "Turn around and face me!"

"You don't believe I did this, Walker," said Brendan, eyes again on Theresa's still face, "I know you don't, because if you did we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Turn and face me, you coward!" shouted Walker, misery and anger in his voice and body.

"If you believe I'd killed her, that I killed all of them, you would have taken me out while I was looking the other way."

"I'm not a coward!" shouted Walker, "I'm a slayer! An honest man! We give people like you a chance to defend themselves!"

"Stupid way to slay people," said Brendan, not believing him. "And a load of bull too if you ask me. So the question remains, what are you doing here?"

Walker crept forward slightly, "I'm here to kill you!" he announced, angrily.

"No you're not," said Brendan, "we've already established that. I think you're here to get beat down."

"No," Walker protested.

"I think it's obvious who you really blame for your brother's death, for this girl's death, for all of it. You blame yourself!"

"No!" Walker repeated.

Brendan continued anyway, certain of his words," You want me to hurt you, so you don't have to hurt yourself. So you can say you've taken your punishment, maybe even so you can actually hate me."

"I do hate you!" growled Walker.

"Well come on then!" Brendan shouted, "Show me! Hurt me! Kill me, whatever! Punish me! You're a slayer aren't you? Slay me!"

Walker didn't. He looked at Brendan with his tear stained eyes for a moment longer before he turned around and ran. Brendan couldn't care less where he went. He had to imagine telling Myra McQueen that her niece had been murdered and it was all Brendan's fault. He couldn't handle shouting. He needed comfort. He needed someone to show him he wasn't evil. He craved one person.

"Steven?" he called out of the door.

"Brendan?" said a voice. The wrong voice. Cheryl's voice, even more depleted than it sounded earlier. Brendan's whole body turned to ice.

"No," he said, knowing what was to come.

"Brendan, I can't find Ste."

"No!" Brendan repeated, wanting to tear his ears off so he could pretend he hadn't heard.

"Brendan, he's nowhere in the club. I just tried Amy and she said she'd call if she sees him, but..."

"No!" Brendan repeated. Each of her words was killing him a new. Each more painful than the day he'd been turned. Each worse than anything that he'd ever felt before.

"I'm sorry, Bren, I think he's been taken."

Brendan roared.

* * *

"What should we do?" Ste gasped in terror.

"Nothing!" gasped Myra the witch, "there's nothing we can do!"

"I'm not giving up!" Ste hissed, angrily. "can't you try that thing again?"

"It's only got so much power!" Myra sobbed, "I have to plug it in again."

"Plug it in?!" Ste repeated, furious.

"Well, it takes a lot of energy to get from one place to another, you know!" Myra cried. "There's no pleasing you, is there?!"

"We're surrounded by werewolves!" Ste shouted, "I'm not supposed to look pleased!"

Myra descended into unintelligible sobs. Ste's eyes darted around them, at the hungry, glowing eyes. But vampires weren't all evil. Could he hope werewolves could be good?

"Don't hurt us!" he pleaded, "we haven't hurt you! We just want to go home!"

The growling grew louder and Ste felt cold dread dripping through his body.

One pair of eyes grew larger, as their owner crept forward. Ste began to make out features; a long nose, pointed ears, hair, teeth. He tried not to whimper, not to let his terror show.

"Please," he said, "we haven't done anything to hurt you."

The creature arched it's back and stood on two legs. The werewolf could not be mistaken for any natural animal. No natural animals could look so filled with hatred, could seem to take such pleasure in their fear. Ste stepped back from it, only to be reminded he could not escape by a growl behind him.

"Let us go, please," he tried, the fear putting sobs into his voice.

The creature let out an ugly snarl. "All that true, witch?" It's voice was like nothing Ste had heard before, like gravel and misery, crushing and vile, "Never did anything to hurt us, did you?"

Myra just let out another sob. "My Jacqui, Trevor, she's my baby!"

The creature snarled again, "She's a thief and a liar! She deserves everything that coming to her!"

Myra shook her head, but she too pushed down her fear. "You can't hurt us, the boy...the boy is Brendan Brady's mate. He should be protected by your agreement. Brendan won't allow you to get away with this. He'll kill you."

The feral creature crept forward, taking a long sniff. His expression changed to a warped smile, his white teeth glinting in the moonlight. "He is no mate of Brady's. I can't smell sex on him. You're trying to say Brady would let such a pretty looking creature work for him without taking so much as a sample? I know you think I'm stupid Myra, but I'm not that stupid. I was going to spare the boy, but now because of your lies I'm going to rip him to shreds and make you watch. Say goodbye to your little friend." Trevor's eyes were glinting with malice as he edged towards Ste.

"No!" screamed Myra.

* * *

Brendan's roar had sent the hypnotised mass into a fit of horrific panic. They were cowering in corners, weeping, clinging to each other. Cheryl said they were reflecting Brendan's inner turmoil. Brendan thought that was stupid. He had to find Steven. Inner turmoil was a waste of time.

"If we find Myra, maybe she could scry for him," suggested Mizteee. They were in the office, the door open to keep an eye on the crowd. The dead girl lay still on the table.

"She's still not answering her phone," said Cheryl.

"And fat lot of good she'll do!" snapped Brendan, "if we give her a week and the nostril hair of a seventh child born on a Tuesday she might be able to tell us what country he's in."

"She did all right for you," Mitzeee pointed out, but now was hardly the time to extol the dubious virtues of Myra McQueen, so Brendan ignored her.

"The scent just disappeared," explained Cheryl. "It must have been a vampire, who, you know...flew him away."

Brendan grumbled. He'd figured that much out for himself. He needed to find Steven right now.

"Right," he announced, "I'm sending the humans out to look for him!" Mitzeee and Cheryl looked at him like he was mad. He didn't care. "They'll cover a more space than we can alone."

"And how are they going to look, Brendan?" Cheryl argued, in a reasonable voice that tempted Brendan to hit her, "They can't smell him."

"They'll look with their eyes Cheryl!" Brendan snapped.

"How, Brendan?" Mitzeee snapped back, "are you going to order them to break into every house they see? Look through every bedroom, every cellar, every alleyway? We can't send humans after Ste! He was taken by vampires! Vampires who kill humans!"

The hypnotised mass roared in fury. "What are you saying Mitzeee?" Brendan growled, "we leave him there?"

"Of course not!" Mitzeee replied, "I'm saying we sort out your freaky emotional army and we use our brains!"

"And in the time that takes anything could happen!" Brendan shouted and the hypnotised crowd screamed in fury.

"Brendan! Send them home!" Cheryl ordered hysterically. Nate the dog was whining pitifully on the floor each time the crowd reacted to Brendan's emotions, and Cheryl picked him up and hugged him muttering soothing nonsense.

Brendan threw their control back at them. He couldn't care less if a thousand policemen turned up now. Nothing mattered. Steven was missing. The crowd erupted into confused noise; but with no body to remind them, their confusion just made them hurry to get out to get home.

"Who's doing this?" Mitzeee asked, "I mean, who'd want to kill Theresa? She's just a kid."

Brendan was going to shout again. Why was he sat here? He should be with Steven! Guarding him with his life.

Brendan was distracted by a human calmly walking through the crowds towards them, a young man who Brendan didn't recognise. They all looked at him. Brendan recognised the vacant expression of someone being controlled by a vampire.

"Trevor Royle's pack," the human announced, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. Then he collapsed.

Brendan didn't wait for the women to follow. He flew.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks again to everyone who is taking time to review! We love to hear what you think!**

Ste felt Myra grip his hand. Her palm was hot and sweaty and it was obvious to Ste that this was it. If a witch like Myra (who encountered the supernatural world on probably a daily basis) was that scared, then Ste knew he should be too. Trevor's grotesque wolf form already terrified him, but it was the look in the yellow eyes that scared him the most. With Brendan there was something almost human about him, an inert goodness. With Trevor there was no such goodness. Trevor truly was a monster, just greed and hunger in his eyes. Nothing would be achieved through begging or even trying to reason with him.

"Shame he's so stringy looking. He's only two bites big, I prefer my meals to be a bit more wholesome." Trevor chuckled to himself.

The wolves surrounding them let out a gruff bark-like noise, almost as if they were laughing with Trevor.

"I'm going to pull your organs out one by one and eat them in front of you." said Trevor. "How does that sound? Then I'll let my pack feast on the rest of you. If you're lucky you may be dead in the first five minutes, but I'll try my best to make sure you don't leave the party early."

"I hope you choke." spat out Ste. He'd known men or animals like Trevor before. People who took pleasure in the pain of others because they could find none anywhere else. His step-father had been just the same. He refused to let himself be frightened by Trevor, he knew the man would like that.

Trevor put his shiny white teeth away, his eyes darkening. "We'll see how gobby you are when you're begging me to end your life."

"Please Trevor." begged Myra. "Let him go, he's an innocent. An innocent that belongs to Brendan Brady. If you hurt even a hair on his head you could start a war between werewolves and vampires, you know the rules."

Trevor rolled his yellow eyes. "Lies Myra, that's all that comes out of your mouth. It's getting boring now." he glanced back at his pack. "Take her away from the boy, it's time for dinner. I want her to have a front row seat."

Myra screamed as two wolf-like forms physically dragged her away. "Please not Ste. He's more important than you realise, don't hurt him. Take me instead, he's just a boy."

"Shut her up." growled Trevor.

Myra was silenced by a pile of dead leaves being rammed into her mouth. She immediately began to choke, as huge tears rolled down her eyes. The wolves dragged her away through the trees.

"Leave her alone!" shouted Ste, feeling defensive over the poor witch. He launched himself onto the wolf's back, grabbing at the fur with one hand and punching every part of the wolf he could reach. He knew it was his only chance of survival, to see his kids and Brendan again. For a minute Trevor was frozen, but then he immediately began to violently jump up and down trying to throw Ste off. Ste dug his nails deep into the fur, clinging on for life. Ste felt as if he was riding one of those mechanical bulls he'd once seen when Amy and him had taken the kids on holiday one year.

Suddenly, he felt the world around him shift, as his nails lost their grip and he went flying. For a few seconds he was air bound, sailing across the cold night, feet never nearing the ground. He shot straight into a tree and his head hit the trunk with a sickening crack. He lay there moaning, the world above him seeming to become a blur of colour. He smelt Trevor's breath before he saw him standing over him. As his vision swam back into focus, all Ste could see was shiny white teeth and a mouth dripping with salvia. He held back a sob. He wasn't going to die a coward, snivelling and scared.

Trevor drew back his head ready to strike; Ste closed his eyes waiting for the pain, but none came. He opened his eyes and saw Trevor was being physically dragged away from him by his tail, his paws frantically trying to find their footing in the hard mud.

Ste pushed himself up, desperately trying to see who his saviour was. A shiver of both pleasure and fear ran down his spine as he noticed it was Brendan, his face oddly blank and rage radiating off him in waves. Brendan began to turn in a circle whilst clenching Trevor's dirty tail. He made it look almost like a game, like Trevor was a toy that you'd spin round in the garden. Brendan got faster and faster; just as he was beginning to become a blur he let go of the wolf, sending him flying off into the trees yelping.

Ste sat against the tree paralysed, not sure whether to run to or away from Brendan. The look on the vampire's face terrified him. Brendan turned and looked straight at Ste, and Ste felt his heart swim with emotion, locked in a gaze with what felt like the only other person in the world. One minute Brendan was standing across from Ste, the next he was kneeling next to him.

"Did he hurt you?" asked Brendan, his voice shaking from his suppressed anger. "Did he bite you?" Brendan gently grabbed Ste's face in his hands, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

"No," whispered Ste.

"I'll make him feel every one of your scratches and bruises." said Brendan, running a finger gently over Ste's cheek.

Ste felt his heart beginning to beat rapidly with how close Brendan was to him. Brendan leaned in even closer and licked a trail of blood coming from Ste's ear, he closed his eyes and shudder with pleasure. Brendan began to lean in, as the urge to kiss the vampire became overwhelming to Ste. Just as their lips were about to touch, Brendan let out an animalistic roar of pain. Trevor had somehow managed to recover from his little journey and had sunk his long teeth into Brendan's shoulder.

Brendan turned around, facing away from Ste. He stood over him in a protective stance.

"Didn't realise you were joining the party." said Trevor, his voice smug. "I thought the witch was telling tales as usual."

"That's funny, I could smell you from miles away. Have you put on weight? That diet of raw meat is obviously doing nothing for you." said Brendan smoothly. "How's the wife? I heard she left you for a wolf in Liverpool, can't say I blame her. There's only so many bottles of Febreze you can buy until you realise it's a lost cause."

"Very funny Brendan." said Trevor, sounding as though he thought the exact opposite. "Well I was just about to tuck into a starter, if you want to join me? There's not much to go around, but I'm sure we could find a way to share." Trevor's eyes were glinting in the moonlight. "Unless you've gone soft like I've heard."

"He's mine." growled Brendan dangerously.

Trevor's smirk became even wider. "Well that puts me into a bit of a predicament, doesn't it? You see the boy was on my land, with the witch, so by rights I can do what I please with him. You must understand this, it's not like I go onto your land demanding humans, standing in the way of your dinner."

"He's under my protection, he's mine by the laws of our kind." stated Brendan slowly, as if talking to a particularly small child.

Trevor let out a growl-like laugh and the few wolves still circling them joined in.

"Brendan." started Trevor. "You are in no position to reel off the rules of our kind. Especially in your current position, all alone with no back-up. Wouldn't it be a shame if you and the boy just...well disappeared? The lost, lonely vampire disappearing from the world, poetic, really, when you think about it."

Ste glanced around expecting to hear the agreement of Trevor's pack, but noticed the yellow eyes had all but disappeared. He wondered what had happened to them all, his silent question was answered when Mitzeee silently appeared next to him. She wasn't the only vampire to show her face. One by one pale, glowing, marble-like figures emerged from the trees. Their faces were hard and Ste shivered realising they were all here for Brendan. There was about fifteen of them.

"Sorry we're late boss." said Mitzeee cheerfully. "We were taking care of an infestation problem. This wood is full of unsavoury creatures, luckily we've taken care of most of them."

The wolfish grin on Trevor's face faded as he seemed to realise he was suddenly outnumbered and alone. "You're on my land, you can't launch a hostile attack on my own territory. You know the rules."

"Well usually I'd agree." said Brendan, trying his best to sound fair. "But you're just one lone werewolf and like you said, it would be so easy if you just disappeared. You're right, it is poetic. Just think of Anne here as Little Red Riding Hood without the red cape really. I think it's time I saved her from the big bad wolf; I'm sure you understand Trevor, it's nothing personal. I just don't like it when people touch things that don't belong to them."

Trevor backed away from the vampires, his yellow eyes desperately trying to find any way out of the situation. It seemed his whole pack had abandoned him or had been taken care of by Brendan's friends. Brendan turned to talk to Mitzeee, taking his eyes off Trevor for only a few moments. Ste expected Trevor to look scared or at least try to talk out of the situation, he didn't expect the werewolf to launch himself murderously at Brendan's throat.

"Brendan!" screamed Ste.

Brendan turned with supernatural speed and caught Trevor round the neck. There was a sickening crack and a dog-like yelp and then it was all over. Brendan dropped Trevor's limp body, which fell to the floor like a rag doll. Ste took this moment to violently throw up.

"Well that was a bit of an anti-climax." stated Mitzeee. She turned to Ste, "You do realise you nearly started a war tonight, Ste, through your wondering off." said Mitzeee. "I hope you're as good in bed as Brendan seems to think you are. Else this night will have all been for nothing."

Ste blushed.

"Anne." said Brendan in a warning tone.

She shrugged in response, with a smirk. "Just being honest."

"Where's Myra?" asked Ste, frantically looking around for the witch. "Is she okay?"

"Cheryl's taken her back to the club." said Mitzeee, simply. "There was some business there that needed to be taken care of."

"What did you offer the wolves?" asked Brendan.

Mitzeee rolled her eyes. "The usual; a few chew toys and a bit more land. You better hope the new pack leader doesn't hate vampires, or else this could end up coming back to haunt us."

"Right." Brendan turned to look at Ste, a vulnerable expression on his face. It was as if he expected Ste to recoil away from him or not meet his gaze. Ste did neither of those things and instead purposely pushed himself up and stumbled towards the vampire. He couldn't help be glad that Trevor was dead. The werewolf couldn't hurt anyone ever again.

"Take me home." said Ste softly. He rushed forward and found himself being pulled tightly into Brendan's chest. For the first time all evening Ste felt safe locked in the un-dead man's arms.

"You can't just leave me here to clean up another one of your messes while you go off God knows where to do God knows what." said Mitzeee angrily, seeming to read both men's minds. "My shoes are ruined and this is my favourite coat. I'll be washing the smell of dog out of it for weeks. All work and no play makes Mitzeee a dull girl, you know. This is vampire cruelty."

"As your maker I order you to clean up this mess." said Brendan calmly.

Mitzeee fixed him with an angry glare. "I'm going to make you pay for this for centuries to come Brendan Brady."

"Enjoy working the late shift with Cheryl for the next ten years then Anne." answered Brendan simply.

Ste didn't spare Mitzeee a second thought as he felt himself being pulled even more into Brendan's chest, and before he could say a word about it he realised his feet were no longer on the ground. The two of them were flying through the cold night air, high above the dense canopy of trees.

* * *

Brendan was flying with him again.

Ste had been flown about far too much in the last day; but it felt truly amazing to be held so securely by strong, beautiful arms, to feel the air rushing past, to see the world beneath him as small and inconsequential as Leah's toys. Far below them, people were living their normal everyday lives, their lives where monsters were only in story books and love was just a warm type of friendship. That wasn't how anything was for Ste anymore.

Brendan's expression was intense. Ste stared at the vampire's face, so much more beautiful than anything else in the world and so in need of care. Ste tightened his hold.

"It's fine," said Brendan, quietly, misinterpreting the move, "I'm not going to drop you."

"I know," Steven said. "I trust you."

Brendan gave a strange frown at the words. Ste couldn't work out what had caused that. They were together again, safe, for the time being anyway. Trevor was gone. There was no way Vinnie or his mysterious master had followed them. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Brendan took a moment to think through his answer, but when he opened his mouth, the words were overtaken by a hissing sound of pain.

"What?" gasped Ste, seeing Brendan almost curl in on himself.

"It's… dawn!" hissed Brendan.

Ste looked around. It was true. The sky wasn't as dark as it had been. To one side, presumably the East, the darkness was being replaced, the sky first by the faintest of glows. Brendan was fast losing height, his eyes wide and fearful and Ste knew they had seconds.

"There!" he shouted, pointing at the first place that he knew Brendan could survive the day. Brendan didn't question it. He flew straight there, as a slight smell of smoke began to assault Ste's nose. A chain had been reattached, but Brendan broke it easil, and practically fell inside, leaving Ste to slam the door closed behind them.

The crypt was dark, as it had been that first time Ste had wondered in to find Brendan resting on the stone. Right now Brendan was collapsed on the floor and Ste's heart was in palpitations with fear for him.

"Are you alright?" he gasped, wondering how you checked a vampire for life signs. He supposed you didn't; if he wasn't actually a smouldering pile of ashes, he was fine, but Ste was still worried.

"Yeah," gasped Brendan. He pulled himself up heavily and slumped on the same grave he'd laid on that first time they met.

"You're not on fire?" Ste demanded, sniffing the air and searching the dark form before him for flames.

"No, I'm fine, Steven."

Ste had to check for himself before he could believe that. He felt his way, checking for anything that might cause the vampire pain. He found the place on his shoulder. Brendan only grunted slightly, but Ste could feel the tear in the skin.

"Trevor bit you," he realised.

"It's nothing," said Brendan, "it barely scratched the surface."

"We need to get it checked out," Ste contradicted.

"Yeah, we'll pop down to monster A & E," said Brendan.

"You're not a monster!" Ste cried.

"I am to doctors, Steven," Brendan replied, with a sigh, "just leave it, yeah? If it wasn't from a supernatural creature, it would be healed already. It'll be gone in a few days,"

"What, do you like heal super quick or something?" asked Ste with interest.

Brendan gave him a sad smile, "Just one of the many things that makes me inhuman, Steven."

"Stop it!" Ste protested, "You ain't a monster!"

Brendan put a cold hand on Ste's face. "Go home," he said, "Run away, before I hurt you."

"Er, no," Ste snapped, making his voice as stroppy as he could, "I'm going to the shop."

"Why?" said Brendan.

"Well, if we're gonna be trapped in here all day, we're gonna need some torches. You might have super vampire vision, but I'm gonna start bumping into everything."

"Steven!" Brendan started to protest, but Ste ignored him.

"Five minutes!" he said, "don't go anywhere!"

He was out the door, knowing Brendan couldn't escape, couldn't stop him and feeling pretty determined. He'd get torches and bandages and maybe something to eat. He hoped Brendan had found some time to grab a drink at the club yesterday. He wasn't sure how he felt about Brendan actually drinking from him. That would probably be weird.

He found a convenience store that opened early and bought his supplies, before hurrying back the way he'd come. The sun was visible over the horizon now, the beauty it created so strange when it held such devastating power over Brendan. Ste didn't take the time to appreciate it. He shoved open the door of the crypt carefully, so he couldn't accidentally let the sunlight land on Brendan.

"I got bandages," he announced, "and plasters and water. They didn't have any torches so I got tea lights, and some matches. Look."

He held up the bag for Brendan's inspection. The vampire didn't move. He had lain down on the cold stone again and was staring up at the roof.

"You know, that first day we met?" said Brendan, quietly.

"Yeah," replied Ste with a grin, putting tea lights on flat looking surfaces around them and taking out the matches to light them. "That were in here, weren't it? I thought you was well mental."

"Yeah," said Brendan, voice still quiet, pensive, "I could tell."

"I mean, this isn't, like, where you normally sleep, though, is it?" Ste asked, as he lit the candles around him.

"No," said Brendan, simply. "Though it's where I belong."

Ste frowned. He didn't really get that, but the place was almost light enough now. It had a strange romance when lit by the small lights dotted around the place. He'd bought two boxes; they didn't look like they'd give off much light individually, so he was using a lot. "I've got bandages for where Trevor bit yer," he announced digging back in the bag for them.

"You looked so beautiful in the sunlight," Brendan told him, sitting up on the tomb and looking at Ste intensely.

Ste pulled the plastic from the bandages, "There was no sunlight in here, silly," he said, "or you wouldn't be here."

"No, I saw you before then," Brendan told him, voice a whisper.

"Take your shirt off," Ste instructed, "I've got clean water and antiseptic cream."

"Steven," Brendan sighed, "put that down. I'm trying to explain something."

"Explain what?" asked Ste, putting the bandage down beside Brendan. "When did you see me in the sunlight?"

"I was waiting for dawn," Brendan said and Ste stared at his sad face.

Ste froze, "But…" he said, strangely terrified of what Brendan was going to say, "The dawn would've killed you."

Brendan blinked at him, but didn't answer.

Ste knew what that meant. "You were trying to!" he gasped, heart twisting uncomfortably. If Brendan had succeeded, they would never have met.

"I was ready," Brendan breathed, voice so low and quiet it was almost lost even in this small space, "I don't deserve to live."

"That's not true!" Ste told him.

Ste could tell by the vampire's expression that he hadn't heard Ste's answer, he was too lost in the memories, "I saw you and you were so beautiful I just… I couldn't, but I was wrong. I see that now."

"No!" Ste cried, "You were right not to!"

Brendan wouldn't hear him, "I am a monster that hides from the sun and the light and everything good. I deserve to die."

"You saved me!" Ste cried, "You saved my life tonight! I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you!"

"You wouldn't be in danger if it wasn't for me," Brendan said, "you said it yourself, they're targeting you to get to me."

Ste shook his head, "We don't know that," he said, "and that doesn't make it your fault!"

"If you'd never met me, you'd be safe and happy and none of this would have happened. I should have stayed in that sunshine. Nothing that deserves to live should burn in the sunlight."

The vampire's face was cold, blank. It was like he couldn't see Ste anymore. He was looking at the door and Ste could imagine the ideas in his head. He needed to bring Brendan back to him.

He climbed onto Brendan's lap.

Brendan blinked in surprise. "What are you doing?" he asked, but his confused tone held that slight hint of anticipation and hope, as Ste straddled his legs.

"Showing you how far from monstrous you are," said Ste, "a monster couldn't make me feel like this."

Brendan looked into his eyes and Ste saw something in that sad ocean grow warmer. He took Brendan's face in his hands. Though a hundred years old, somehow the vampire wore the expression of a child, staring at Ste with fear and hope. Ste smiled and kissed him.

Brendan's mouth was amazing. Ste had never felt like this; no other partner had ever made him feel quite so perfect with one kiss. And Brendan was only half with him at the start. It didn't take him long to catch up, though, and Ste felt the lips move in return, hands grasping his waist. He grinned. Then he pulled away.

"First things first," he said, picking up the bandage. He didn't get out of Brendan's lap, but went to work on removing Brendan's shirt. The vampire didn't resist. He watched Ste work, and Ste gave him a gentle peck as reward when the shirt was discarded. Ste cleaned the wound gently with the bottled water, and then carefully wrapped the bandages around it, protecting the wound as best he could. When he was done, his eyes slipped back to Brendan's, their faces so close again.

Ste searched the beautiful face before him, "I know you're not a monster, Brendan Brady," Ste whispered, "do you know how?"

Brendan shook his head, eyes still open as a child's, pale skin given colour by the soft orange glow of the candles, light in his eyes dancing with the tiny flames.

"I can feel it," Ste whispered, "here." He took Brendan's hand and put it on his chest, let the vampire feel the effect his presence had on Ste. He knew his heart was beating fast, but he also knew it wasn't only arousal that had that effect. He kissed Brendan once more, feeling no delay in Brendan's response that time, feeling the vampire's grip strengthen on him, pulling him closer, then pulling on his t-shirt. Ste had no patience left for the material and tore it up over his head. As the skins of their chests touched for the first time, both human and vampire sighed. They took time to explore each other, with eyes, hands, tongues, before they had to have more of each other.

By the time they were naked, Ste knew he was in love with the vampire.

Everything about every action they took felt so right, like they were meant to be there. They fitted each other perfectly. No one interrupted them this time; no one knew where they were, so there was no hurry, no shame, no fear, just the two of them, alone and enjoying the candlelight and each other. There wasn't a moment when they weren't touching, fingers clinging, lips joining. There was more than enough human in Brendan, as Ste discovered, and when they were done, they lay on the cold stone, a picture of contentment.

They knew they were going to have to talk. Ste was going to have to explain who took him and how they escaped, Brendan was going to have to explain how he found them and who Vinnie and Eoghan were. Ste suspected he wasn't going to like those answers, but as he rested his head on Brendan's strong shoulder, tangling legs and fingers with Brendan's, he decided it didn't matter. Right here and now he knew certain truths. He loved Brendan, and Brendan loved him.

The rest could wait until tomorrow.


End file.
